


You Should Know Where I'm Coming From

by KayKel108



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:02:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayKel108/pseuds/KayKel108
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia Martin received her fair share of attention in high school.  She had been looking forward to diving into New York and blending in with the crowd.  That is, until she fell in love with Stiles and then broke his heart to keep from breaking it harder later.  Logic... wasn't always her cup of tea.  Turns out, when you basically drop a guy out of the blue, you should really check to make sure he's not a secret Taylor Swift.  Lydia should have checked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Live from New York, it's...

**Author's Note:**

> This idea just kind of attacked me last night. I hope you all don't hate it. Also, just a warning, I have no abilities in song writing. None. Squat. Nada. I will be stealing songs and pretending that Stiles wrote them. I hope that's okay. Sorry in advance. 
> 
> Almost all of my fics come from listening to music and that's where they get their titles. You Should Know Where I'm Coming From by BANKS is the inspiration for this one if you're curious about the title.

##  _“KWX in the Morning here!  It’s another hot one in the city today.  Let me cool you guys down with the stone cold break up hit of the summer.  For the third week in a row, this breakout single has topped the charts.  Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know what I’m talking about.  Here it is folks, Pack Mentality with Siren.”_

Lydia groaned, rolling over to turn off her radio alarm only to be met with a wall of muscle.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”  She grumbled, “Turn it off, Josh!”

He opened one eye, glancing at the loud redhead beside him, “It’s Drew, actually.”

She pursed her lips into a tight line, “It’s irrelevant, actually.  Radio.  Off.”

Drew rolled his eyes and sat up, hitting the off button and sighing, “I liked that song.”

Lydia threw the covers back and stood up, wrapping her sheet tightly around her as she padded across the cold hardwoods to her bathroom.  Calling out from behind the shut door, “That song is shit. I’m talking a shower, do me a favor and don’t be here when I get out.”

“Could I get your number?”  He called from the bed.

“Goodbye, Drake!”  She returned.

He muttered under his breath, “It’s Drew...”

Lydia muttered under her breath, mimicking the naked man she vaguely remembered coming home with last night in the other room as she stepped into the shower, “ ‘I liked that song.’  Here it is folks, the breakout hit of the summer.  Probably up for a fucking Grammy.  That son of a bitch.”

 

Lydia had been torturing herself for the last month, listening to the words over and over again.  It was just a song.  A really well written song.  A beautiful melody.  A slap in the face.  The words, _his_ words, were a terrible reminder of her choices, her decisions that led to being the muse behind the chart topping hit of the summer.

It wasn’t exactly her fault, really. How was she supposed to know that Stiles could actually play the guitar that had been in his closet the entirety of the time she'd known him?  How was she supposed to know he had a sexy ass voice and the ability to spit out poetry like he was fucking Walt Whitman?  He was supposed to be the dorky, adderalled out, baseball carrying, Jeep driving Stiles Stilinski.  He wasn’t supposed to be a rockstar.  

When Lydia was thrown into the world of the supernatural, she’d been thrown into Stiles, whether she liked it or not.  He never failed to be exactly who and what she needed.  But their lives weren’t simple.  They didn’t watch movies or play mini-golf.  She and the pack fought evil spirits and dread doctors.  They took down Wendigoes and Chimeras.  She had never stopped to wonder if Stiles had had any other hobbies before their world turned to shit.

She should’ve checked.  

Stiles and she had a unique relationship.  She couldn’t exactly say they were exes.  People assumed, of course.  God, the amount of texts and Facebook messages she received, asking if the song was about her.  She’d say no, but they knew, just like she did.  Who else could the lyrics “Was it the fall that did me in or the Siren that came and blew in with the wind?” be about?  Malia certainly didn’t fit the bill of a siren.  She was a blunt as a hammer to the face.  She’d never play with emotions.  She barely had them.  And he’d never had a bad word to say to or about her.  Lydia, on the other hand…

They’d had plenty of words.  

Rinsing the conditioner from her hair, she thought back to that day.

 

_“Can we just not do this right now, please?” She said, stuffing some socks into her suitcase._

_Stiles ran a hand down his face, laughing, though the situation was anything but funny, “Of course.  Anything for you, Princess.”_

_She looked up at him for a moment and immediately wished she hadn’t, “Stiles…”_

_He held up his hand, “Lydia, just… can you just sit down and have a conversation with me about what happens next?”_

_“There’s nothing to talk about, Stiles.” She smiled, trying desperately to avoid where she knew they were headed._

_She barely heard him as he whispered, “Please don’t shut me out.  Don’t... don't walk away from this.”_

_Lydia slumped down on her bed, knotting a pair of fuzzy socks in her hands, not looking up, “There is no ‘this’, Stiles. I mean, there were definitely times where we could’ve been a ‘this’.  But not now.  Not when I’m headed to the other side of the country for college and you’re packing up for Berkeley.”_

_He sighed and moved towards her, bending down to crouch in front of her, placing both hands on her knees, “Look, Here's the thing, I know the timing sucks.  But we finally… we both.. we have something here.  These last couple of months.  They were real.  They happened and it’s not something… you’re not something I can just walk away from.”_

_Lydia shut her eyes for a moment, already hating herself for the words she hasn’t even said yet, “I can.”_

_Stiles’ jaw clenched and he looked down for a second before he nodded and stood up.  He grabbed his keys as he headed out of her room.  Hitting her doorframe with his fist, he turned back around, “Say it.”_

_She looked up, willing the tears that were building in her eyes not to fall._

_He repeated, “Say it. To my face.  I don’t want to spend the next fucking lifetime wondering if we got our wires crossed somehow.”_

_When she clenched her jaw but didn’t speak, he yelled, “Say that you don’t want me!”_

_“I don’t want you!” She screamed back, standing up, “I want to move across the country and never think about this shit-hole town or the people of it again!  Including you!”_

_Stiles looked over her at her blank wall for a tension filled moment and then nodded, “Definitely don’t have any wires crossed.  Good luck with New York.  I hope you find whatever you're looking for.”_

_With that he walked out, closing the door behind him.  She let out the gasping sob that had been building in her chest since he told her he couldn’t walk away from her.  Hearing his Jeep come to life, she quickly moved to her window.  As tears freely began falling she watched him punch his steering wheel one, two, three times and then throw it in reverse.  She watched as he grabbed an envelope and scribbled something on the front of it before leaning out of his window and shoving it into her mailbox.  She watched him drive away._

_She raced down the stairs and out to her mailbox. With shaky hands, she pulled it out. Scribbled on the front was the sentence, “I guess I found out.”_

_Sinking down to the curb, she pulled out the letter and opened it.  It read,_

**_Dear Lydia,_ **

**_These last few months have probably been the highlight of my life. Nothing has tried to kill us or possess us or drive us insane.  Actually, it’s been a little boring now that I think about it.  What hasn’t been boring has been the days and nights I’ve spent with you, learning about you.  The real you.  Let me say now, the more I uncover, the more I know I never want lose you. We have a unique relationship to say the least.  It’s been label free for an ungodly amount of time, but that’s okay.  I don’t need or have the desire to label what we have, other than to say that you’re my favorite person.  You always have my back and I want you to know that I’ll always have yours. No matter what.  You’re heading to the other side of the country, but I know that somehow we’ll figure it out.  You once told me I was the one that always figured it out.  I’m banking on you being right about that like you’re right about most things.  I’m writing this in the Jeep before I go inside to help you pack and load up.  In case I lose my nerve to bring it up in there, this is my back up._ **

**_Bottom line, Lydia, is that I want you with me.  Now.  Six months from now.  Fifty years from now.  I don’t know if that’s what you want too.  I think it is.  I hope it is.  I guess I’ll find out soon enough._ **

**_Unconditionally yours,_ **

**_Stiles_ **

****

 

Lydia leaned her head against the cool shower tiles, steading her breathing. How was that a year ago?  It felt like yesterday.  Today even.  She felt like she was eternally stuck in that bedroom, with him screaming at her to say that she didn’t want him.  She was stuck playing the moment over and over.  The moment she ruined everything they had and could’ve had because she was scared.

Taking a deep breath, she shook her head.  No.  She would not let him get to her today.  He’d gotten to her last night when the band at the bar covering his damn song and it ended with a man she’d already forgotten the name of in her bed and a lot of tequila.

Turning the shower off and grabbing her towel, she yanked back the curtain, “Nope. Not today Stiles.  Not today.”

She threw open her bathroom door to find a man lying on her bed, flipping through the channels.  But it wasn’t Dan.  David? Drew.  Yeah, definitely Drew.

It was Scott.

“What the hell, McCall!  I could’ve come out naked!” She exclaimed, tightening her grip on the towel.

He looked over and shrugged before turning his attention back to her tv, “How do you have such a nice apartment?  It’s college.  You’re supposed to be struggling.”

She grabbed a pair of Nike shorts and a t shirt and went back into her bathroom, shutting the door.  She knew he could hear her, “Pros of divorced parents.  Who can outdo the other leads to lots of nice things for Lydia.”

She walked out and climbed back in her bed next to him, “What are you doing here, Scott?”

He turned so the he was lying on his side, his head propped on his arm, “Breaking the news.”

She bristled, “What news?”

“Stiles is in New York.” He ripped it off like a bandaid.

“What!?”  She sat up and then immediately collected herself, “I mean, that’s interesting. What for?”

Scott rolled his eyes, “SNL.  Pack Mentality is the musical guest tonight.”

She smiled despite the situation, “Are you excited?”

Scott returned her grin and fell back on his back, “I’m so fucking nervous, Lyds.  I mean, I’m a good drummer and we’re solid.  It’s still terrifying, you know.  Up until Stiles decided to break out his guitar I hadn’t played since eighth grade.”

She crossed her arms, “Well that just means you guys will only get better.” She paused, “So, you gonna play that shitty single of yours or have you managed to come up with some new material?”

He hit her with a pillow, smiling, and then sighed, “I’m sorry, by the way.  He didn’t know we’d get famous off of insulting you.  Hell, I always figured if we made the news it’d be for outing supernatural creatures to the world, not something as normal as a good song.”

“Don’t apologize for him, Scott.  And I don’t care about the silly song.” She lied, “I’m happy for you.  For you both.”

Scott sat back up and put his feet on the floor, “I’m glad to hear you say that, actually.”

She watched as he pulled out a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and extend it to her, “It’s a VIP ticket for the show tonight.  Kira will be there and so will Isaac and Malia.”

She scoffed but lightheartedly, “Still a pack, huh?”

He smiled, “Liam and Hayden are coming on tour with us this summer.  Only pack member that’s missing is you.”

She frowned, “I’m not in the pack anymore, Scott.”

Scott looked over his shoulder and then stuffed his feet back in his boots, “You’ll always be pack, Lyds.  I get that you had to get away.  The voices and the stress and the memories.  God do I get it.  You can run as far and for as long as you want.  We’re always going to be here.”

She turned the ticket over a few times in her hand before whispering, “Not all of you.”

Scott smiled sadly, “Maybe.  Maybe not. You made some choices and so did he. Truthfully, he’s not the guy you left in Beacon Hills a year ago.”

“What does that mean?”  She questioned nervously.

He shrugged and stood up, “Just come tonight night, okay?”

Lydia looked up at the puppy dog eyes staring at her and rolled her own, “Fine.”

Scott grinned and leaned down to kiss her forehead, “Love you, Lyds. See you soon.”

“You too.”

 

She watched him grab an apple from her counter as he strode out of her apartment, like he hadn’t just disrupted her whole life with his stupid smile and his stupid encouraging words and his stupid never failing friendship and support. She hated optimists. They were so…optimistic.

“Oh shit!”  She exclaimed as she turned towards her bedroom, “What the hell am I going to wear!?”


	2. Partners in Crime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During this fic, I'll be using songs that I think are fitting for the situation.  
> This chapter's song was Honest by The Neighbourhood.  
> Enjoy!

Across town, Stiles was opening his eyes.

“Holy hell.  Why is it so bright?”

A hand trailed over his waist, “Shhhh.”  The voice beside him managed.

He chuckled and leaned over to press a light kiss to her forehead, “Morning.”

She sighed and sat up, “You don’t have to do that.”

Stiles tilted his head in confusion, “Do what?”

She shrugged, “Act like you didn’t meet me last night at a bar.”

“Oh, that.”  He sat up as well, “Well… just because I’ve known you for about…” he looked down at his watch, “seven hours, four of which we’ve been asleep, doesn’t mean I can’t be nice.”

“Are you sure you’re a rockstar?”

He crossed his arms, “Um. Look at my swooshy hair.  Look at my tattoos.  I’m definitely cool.  Shut up.”

The girl laughed and crawled out of bed, grabbing her dress, “This was fun.”

Stiles rubbed his eyes, “I could take you to breakfast or coffee or something.”

She smiled and leaned over to kiss him once firmly on the mouth, “No thanks.  Maybe call me if you’re ever over your ex.”

“What ex?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know.  The girl who you talk about in your sleep.  Lydia is a pretty name, by the way.”

When he didn’t say anything, she nodded, “Bye, Stiles.”

He watched her leave and rolled back over, pulling the sheets over his head.

Stupid fucking sleep talking.  Stupid Lydia Martin.  He knew it was the town.  He knew she was here.  It’d been a year and even though he promised himself that he’d not stay caught up on a girl who clearly wasn't caught up on him, he’d done a piss-poor job.

But it was Lydia.  His Lydia.  How was he supposed to manage getting over someone who was as ingrained in him as the tattoos on his arms?

He absentmindedly rubbed his hand over the tree that spread up the underside of his forearm.  He’d only passed out a little while getting it done.  To the average person, it was a cool tree.  To him, it was so much more.  It was a symbol of the girl who’d drawn it repeatedly.

He had a slender arrow wrapping around his forearm right below his elbow on his other arm, for Allison. They were both gone, but in entirely different ways.

He had some less meaningful ink scattered around.  He’d found that once he started, it was something close to an addiction.  Something he could control.

 

He was ripped from his depressing ass thoughts by the sound of pounding on his hotel door, “Stiles, wake the hell up!”

He huffed, “Isaac, shut the hell up!”

Isaac took that as his cue to enter, “Morning, Sunshine.  Scott told me you needed to be up by 10.  You have to be there by noon.”

Stiles pulled on the t-shirt that had been laying on top of his lamp and not so subtly checked under his covers to make sure he was wearing his briefs.

Isaac raised a brow, “She was hot, man.  High school seems like a longggg time ago.”

“I did fine in high school, thank you very much.”  Stiles rolled his eyes and then added, “Just ask your girlfriend.”

Isaac growled loudly and Stiles raised his hands in surrender, “Sorry.”

“Malia isn’t a subject permitted for bring up in our daily arguments.  Got it?”

Stiles nodded as he stood and stretched, “Got it, got it.  Where the hell is Scott, by the way?”

Isaac looked down to check his manicured nails, “He said he had an errand to run.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed, “Why didn’t he send someone to run it?”

“It was a… personal errand?”

Stiles tapped his fingers along his hip bones, “Did he go see Lydia after I specifically told him under no circumstances were any of us going to see or speak to her?”

“He’s the Alpha, Stiles.  He can see who he wants.”

Stiles shook his head, grabbing his jeans and stalking towards his bathroom, “Yeah and I’m not a fucking werewolf.”

 

Stiles ran into Scott at the elevators.  Literally.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”  Stiles spat as he pushed Scott back into the elevator he’d just exited.  Stepping into it as well as the doors closed, Stiles turned and pulled the stop lever.

Scott winced, “Isaac sucks at keeping secrets.”

Stiles folded his arms, “He shouldn’t have to keep them!  God, Scott.  Lydia made it VERY clear that she wanted nothing to do with the people she knew in high school.”

Scott’s face turned from guilty to annoyed, “You don’t care that I went and saw her.  You just care that she was fine about me stopping by.”

Stiles squinted his eyes and his jaw jerked out in a spastic move, “Well.. I mean.  I just don’t… I don’t know.  I haven’t spoken to her since I walked out of her bedroom after screaming at each other over a year ago.  She said she wanted nothing to do with the people she knew in high school.”

Scott finished his thought, “But if she was happy to see me, you’re pretty sure she meant that she just didn’t want to have anything to do with you.”

“Precisely.”

Scott placed both hands on his friend’s shoulders, “She misses you.”

“She said that?”

Scott tapped his nose and his ear, “She didn’t need to, man.  The way her pulse shot up when I talked about you.  The scent of guilt was so strong my nose burnt.  She didn’t have to say anything and honestly, I didn’t really need my wolf senses.  Her face pretty much sold her out.”

Stiles took in his friend’s words for a moment before pushing the lever back down, allowing the elevator doors to open again, “Well, if she wants to talk, she knows I’m in town now.”

Scott watched his friend head back towards their room and shook his head, deciding that this was not the moment to mention that Lydia was coming to the show tonight.

 

 

“Dude.  It’s fucking SNL.  Like, Saturday Night Live.”

Stiles jumped up and down, shaking out his jitters, “Yes, thank you.  I’m aware.”

Scott twirled his drum sticks around in his hand, thankful for werewolf reflexes that made him look considerably cooler than he was, “I’m just saying.  This is so cool.”

Stiles nodded, adjusting his backwards cap that he planned on throwing into the crowd mid song, “I wish Ally was here to see it.  She’d be proud.”

Scott smiled, “Oh she’s watching.  But she’s not proud.  She’s hella pissed you wrote a mean song about her best friend and got famous because of it.  She’s planning your accidental overdose as we speak.”

Stiles laughed, “You know what, you’re absolutely right.”

The curtains opened.

 

The crowd was overwhelmingly loud.  In the best way.  He loved the energy.  He fed off of it.  Stiles had never dreamed about becoming a rockstar.  But, damn it, he didn’t hate it.  Maybe it was the adrenaline, or possibly the shots he took before coming out on stage, but he felt invincible.

“How is everyone tonight!?”  He yelled and the crowd erupted again, “Before we start, I just want to say that me and New York, we haven’t always had the best relationship.  You see, she took some things from me.  But tonight!  Here with all of you!  I feel like she’s giving me something in return!!”

The applause was deafening.  And he couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face.  He turned back to Scott, who was wearing one himself, and nodded.  Scott counted to three and the rest was history.

Or at least until he got to the end.

“I wish you could be honest, I wish you could be honest, I wish you could be honest, I  wish you coul--” He was supposed to repeat the chorus entirely, but he just stopped.  Stopped playing this guitar, stopped singing.  Scott slowly drifted out of playing the drums too and the crowd just kind of watched in confusion.

They followed his stony stare up towards the VIP section and they didn’t miss the name as he spoke into his microphone.

“Lydia?”

 

Stiles regained his composure before she did, seeing as she just stood there, completely frozen, staring back.

“Sorry everyone!”  He called out with a smile on his face, “Thought I saw a ghost sitting up there in the VIP section!  Turns out it was just my long lost friend!  Can you blame me for getting distracted?  Look at her!”

The crowd cheered and he continued, “You can do better than that!  Let’s hear it for my partner in crime back in the day!”

As the crowd roared, he didn’t take his eyes off of her.  He knew it’d be on tv.  It would be in magazines.  Probably would be made into a gif.  She’d have to field the questions.  But screw it, he was drunkish and high on the adrenaline. And she was here, where she wasn’t supposed to be.

So he winked at her with a smug smile on his face that all but said ‘we used to and/or still do screw.’.

If at all possible, the crowd got louder.


	3. I Don't Want You Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is so terribly short! It's setting it up for a rather long one, I promise.  
> Thanks for reading!

“Oh. My. God.”  Kira exclaimed, pulling a frozen looking Lydia out of the line of vision of the people below, “He did not just do that!”  She turned to Malia and Isaac, “HE DID NOT JUST DO THAT!”

Malia stood and put an arm around Lydia, guiding her to the couch, “Lydia.  You in there?”

Lydia blinked, “Um.  Unfortunately.”

Isaac busted out laughing, “That was horrible.  He stopped the song to basically show the world who it was about!”

“Maybe they just think she’s a friend he didn’t expect to see.  Everyone gets blindsided sometimes.”  Kira offered with a panicked smile, ever the optimist.

It was quiet a second before Lydia spoke, “I guess we’ll see.”

Malia shook her head, “You don’t look at someone like that if you’re just surprised to see them.  It’s on national television.  There is no way the media won’t see that very Stiles looking at Lydia reaction before he tried to play it off.”

“Oh, you mean when he stopped breathing, dropped his pick and his eyes glazed over like he’d just seen an actual ghost?”

Lydia shot a look at Isaac, “You’re not helping.”

He shrugged, “Oh, believe me hon, I wasn’t trying to help.  I’m just enjoying my night.”

Lydia stood up and grabbed her purse, noticing that their song was almost over.  He’d be up here soon.

“I’m just.. It was so great seeing you.  I’m just.. I’m gonna go.  This is been sufficiently awkward.”

Kira stood to protest but Lydia waved her away and smiled weakly as she walked out.

 

Once she was out of their concerned gaze she let out a shaky breath.

“What the hell was that?”  She asked herself.  She’d never felt such a shockwave travel down her spine as she had the moment his eyes met hers.  Even from across the room, she could feel the whiskey pools staring a hole into her soul.  He’d always seen more than she wanted him to see.  And he always found a way to see nothing she needed him to see.

“Lydia?” She froze and shut her eyes and the voice coming from behind her.  Her fight or flight kicked in and she quickly rounded the corner towards a staircase.

“Lyds!”  She heard him call from behind her, louder than before, “Are you seriously running away from me?  How old are you!?”

She felt his hand on hers and she spun around to see a sweaty, tattooed, leather clad version of the boy that held her heart, “Oh, hello Stiles.”

He was a lot closer than she was comfortable with, “What are you doing here?”

She back up, feeling a wall behind her, “Scott invited me, which I’m surprised you didn’t know.  I thought it’d be nice to see everyone again.  I didn’t realize you could see me from the stage.”

She didn’t know how she’d managed three full sentences but she was proud of herself.

His jaw clenched and so did her thighs.  Sweet Jesus.  It’d only been a year since she’d be able to run her fingers over that jaw.  Over his pointed cheek bones.  Over all of him whenever she felt like it.  His hair was longer, he had it loosely slicked back.  She briefly mused over what it’d be like to run her hands through it.  He interrupted her less than innocent thoughts.

Crossing his arms defensively, he questioned, “So you were planning on leaving before I came up?”

She shrugged, trying to make it seem like less of a big deal than it was,“I just didn’t want to make things awkward.  It’s not like the last time we spoke was daisies and rainbows.”  She squinted her eyes and grabbed the collar of his henley, pulling it down, “Are those hickeys?”

He snatched his shirt away and put a hand over them, pointedly ignoring her question, “Oh, you mean when you screamed at me that you wanted to be as far away from me as you could?”

She scoffed, “I only yelled because you were yelling.”

“The volume at which you say something doesn’t change what you say, Lydia.”

She crossed her arms in a mirroring stance, uncomfortable with how quickly this conversation had gone downhill, just like she feared it would, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Could’ve fooled me, Lyds.”

Lydia sighed, putting a hand on his forearm, “Stiles, you know I wouldn’t make a decision about something without looking at it fifty different ways.  This was the best option that left both parties with the least amount of burden possible.”

  
                He shook her hand off of him, jamming his own into his pockets, “That’s what you’re best at isn’t it?  Lydia Martin, always thinking with her head, never with her heart.”

Her calm façade cracked, “Well somebody had to, Stiles!  If it were up to you, we’d still be living in Beacon Hills with 3.5 kids and a white picket fence.  I had plans!  I had goals and plans that did not involve falling in--”

He held up both hands and interrupted her, “You know what, just go.  Now.”  He paused before adding the words he knew would hurt, “I don’t want you here.”

She bit her lip and then gave a tight smile, “Fine.  You and Scott sound good, by the way.  Hope this argument gives you your next big hit.”

She turned and sauntered down the stairs, knowing he was fuming back at the top.  Despite how horribly that conversation had gone, she felt a sense of accomplishment for getting the last word in.

 

 

The raging emotions flowing back and forth between the pair kept them preoccupied.  They may have been in a stairwell, but they had certainly not been alone.


	4. You're My Medicine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song used in this chapter is Medicine by The 1975

He was fuming.  He was pacing.  He was not enjoying himself at this after party.  Multiple movie stars had said hello.  There was a plethora of beautiful women waiting to be acknowledged by him.  He didn’t care.  He only saw red.  Or more specifically, strawberry blonde.

Scott had tried to talk to him and calm him down.  Stiles knew he was overreacting.  So she came and saw them play.  Big deal.  They were in her city.  Scott was her friend.  He should’ve been cooler about it.  He was mentally kicking himself for so easily displaying how fucked up she made him.

“Stiles!  Can we have a moment with you?”  He turned and plastered a smile on his face, knowing he couldn’t say no to an interview with E!.

“Of course!”  Take a sip of his drink, he sat down with the reporter.

She took out a recorder, “So, Pack Mentality had a huge night tonight.  You and Scott must be pretty excited.”

“Yeah definitely.” He looked around, “I actually don’t see him anywhere.”

She smiled, “He and his girlfriend went for ice cream I believe.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Of course they would choose to go get ice cream during an after party.  I’ll tell you something, they’re so nauseatingly adorable I could stab my own eyes out sometimes.”

“So, I take it Scott didn’t have much of a say in the songs you two have been working on?”

Damn.  She got him.

Stiles took another sip, “Scott’s not all rainbows, believe me.  But if you’re asking about Siren, I wrote it, yes.”

“Can you tell us a little about the process you have to writing such amazing music?”

Stiles thought for a moment, “Well… I guess for me at least, it helps to be sort of emotionally destroyed by someone and then sort of drunk with a pen and some paper.”

The reporter laughed at his comment, not because of what he said but how he said it.  He wasn’t trying to be a stick in the mud.  He was trying to remain truthful while being as lighthearted as he could about it.  That’s what his publicist told him to do.

“Well, whoever she is, you need to thank her.  You’re much better off now.”

He smiled but didn’t comment, so she continued, “Enough about the past, let’s talk about tonight.  Who was that gorgeous red head you stopped the show for?”

Uh oh.  The word vomit he had no choice but to spew, “It’s actually strawberry blonde.”

The reporter’s eyes lit up, “So I take it you two were close.  You called her your ‘partner in crime’?  Care to elaborate?”

He shook his head, “I could go on all night about her, she's fantastic. But she’s also a private person and I think she’d like to keep it that way.  I would like to acknowledge while I know I’m being recorded that we are not now, nor have we ever been an item.  I was just really surprised to see her tonight is all.”

The reporter nodded, taking a few quick notes, “Okay.  Got it.”  She looked up and smiled, “I promise I’ll put that in the article.  You know how quickly rumors spread.”

He extended his hand and she took it, “Thank you.  Have a wonderful night.”

“You too, Stiles.”

 

He walked away to find another drink and the woman pulled out her cell phone, “Well, my story certainly does not match up with the information you claim to have from their stairwell chat.  Unless you can give me hard proof, I’m running his version of the story. Got it?  Good.  I’m serious.  He’s a good kid.  He’s like 20.  19 maybe.  I’m not adding fuel to the rumor mill unless the story is legit.”

 

* * *

 

Stiles walked along the streets of New York, almost immediately understanding everyone’s obsession with it.  No one cared that he was in the open.  Maybe a few people pointed.  One girl asked for a picture, but overall, he blended.  It’s as if the splendor of the city was more enticing than the people within it.

A wind chilled him as he tightened his leather jacket around him, popped up the collar and thanking himself that he forgot to throw the black cap.

Noticing a hole in the wall looking bar across the street, he smiled, “There we go.”

 

No one noticed him at first when he grabbed a pool stick and struck up a match with a handlebar mustache.

“I’m just saying,”  he slurred slightly, “I could totally grow one.  It’s just… My face doesn't go past 5 o'clock shadow, ya know.”

The older guy laughed, knocking a ball into the pocket, “Some people have it, some don’t.  I have a wicked mustache, you have a record deal.  Everyone’s a winner.”

Stiles’ eyes widened, “How’d you know?!”

“I’m not blind?”

About that time the bartender narrowed her eyes towards him, “Hey,  you’re Pack um.. Pack--”

“Mentality.”  He finished for her, sighing.  He just knew this would be the moment everyone started hounding him for autographs and pictures.

People did look at him, but they just nodded and went back to their business.  The guy playing his acoustic on stage stopped and spoke into the microphone, “Hey bud, you wanna get up here a jam?  I got a second guitar back stage.”

That got a few cheers and he smiled, waving his hands, “Okay, okay.”

He laid his pool stick down and made his way over to the small stage.  Someone grabbed a stool and sat it up there as his was strapping up the other guitar.  He reached his hand out, “Stiles.”

The guy grinned, “Yeah, dude.  I know.”  He took it and shook quickly, “Drew.”

 

They played for a while.  Drew wasn’t bad.  He played a few covers that Stiles knew already and he played a couple of originals that Stiles caught onto pretty quickly.  Pretty soon, the shit storm that was his night began feeling like a pretty good time.

Drew stood up and swung his guitar over his head, putting it on his stand, “I’m about to piss myself.  You mind holding down the fort for a few.”

Stiles laughed and nodded, “I got it.”

He tapped the guitar a couple of times before speaking into the microphone, “You guys care if I play something I haven’t recorded in the studio yet?”

There was a considerable amount of cheering and he took that as his cue.

Strumming an acoustic was a lot different than his Strat.  It was immediately more.  That’s the only way he could explain it.  It was just more.

He began strumming and the room fell quiet.  He forgot what it was like to just play for a few people, enjoying the music.

****_I find it hard to say "bye bye"_  
Even in the state of you and I  
And how can I refuse?  
Yeah you rid me of the blues  
Ever since you came into my life  
  
Cause you're my medicine  
Yeah, you're my medicine  
You're medicine  
  
I, I wanna marry you  
Said I, I adore you  
And that's all I have to say, bye-bye  
And you opiate this hazy head of mine

****_Cause you're my medicine_  
Yeah, you're my medicine  
  
Cause you're my medicine  
Yeah, you're my medicine  
You're medicine  
  


He looked up to the silent room and then over to Drew who had his jaw slightly dropped and his phone recording.  He didn’t care who heard it.  He just kind of cared that no one was doing anything.

Suddenly, he felt nerves creep over him.  He was used to screaming applauses, not a room full of people not saying a damn word.

“Okay, well.  That’s just a song I’m working on.  Thanks for listening to it.”

Handlebar mustache raised his hand.

Stiles tilted his head in confusion, “Um, yeah?”

“Yeah, was that about the same girl?  The Siren girl?”

He noticed a bunch of people nod their heads as if to say that they were thinking the same thing.  This was unexpected.

Stiles ran his hand through his hair, “Um.  Yeah, I guess.”

A random face in the crowd spoke up, “So is she horrible, or is she your medicine?  Why’d you guys break up?”

Stiles started laughing, he really wasn’t sure why.  He’d come to this tiny ass bar to get away from the questions and the stress and somehow he was sitting in front of a small group of people, sharing his deepest heartbreak.  He stopped laughing long enough to sigh loudly.

“You know what, you wanna hear a story?” He took off the guitar and sat it in its stand before grabbing the mic and getting comfortable on his stool, “There was this girl.  God, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my entire life.  I’m not even exaggerating.  And one day I drew up all the courage I had to go to her house and check up on her after she’d been in an accident.”

The crowd began leaning forward, becoming engrossed in his story. 

“Her mom tells her, ‘There’s a Stiles here to see you.’ And she says, ‘What the hell is a Stiles?’”  He mimicked their voices and the crowd chuckled softly.  He continued, “That was the first night she ever looked me in the eyes instead of looking past me.  And then she calls me the wrong name and passes out.  She doesn’t remember it.  Pain medication does that.  Anyway, we eventually became friends of sorts.  Her best friend started dating mine so naturally… we were thrown together a lot.  I even took her to a dance.”

He paused, remembering that horrible night, “Somehow, we went from people who did not even orbit the same Sun to being best friends.  The thing about being best friends is that it’s kind of torture when all you want is to be more than that, ya know.”

There were nods in the crowd.  He wasn’t sure what possessed him to share all of this with a room full of strangers, but sometimes you just need to put the words out there without caring who heard them, “She even kissed me once, to calm me down.  We held hands a lot.  She stayed over more than was normal for two teens.  But it was never more.  It was never real, I guess.  We’d had a lot of almost moments.  But, I don’t know, I guess I gave up on the idea that it would ever happen.  I started dating this girl.  Great girl.”

“Boooo!!”  Someone from the bar called out, making Stiles laugh loudly.

“She was, I promise.  And my girl, she started seeing an older guy.  We were friends and it was fine.  Until it wasn’t.  Me and my girlfriend broke up after a few months.  She and her guy were over and suddenly it was close to graduation and we found ourselves realizing we wasted all of high school not feeling what we wanted to with who we wanted to feel it with.”

Drew raised his eyebrows, “You guys hook up?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “We stopped having almost moments and started having real ones.”

“That’s deep.”  Drew nodded and Stiles smiled.

“Anyway, we graduated and we chose our colleges.”

Mustache shook his head, “Oh no.”

Stiles nodded, “Right.  Berkeley and Columbia.”

“Aw shit!”  He wasn’t sure where that came from but it was from multiple mouths.

“Long story short, I wanted to make it work, she wanted a fresh start without the baggage of our shitty town and me holding her down.”

The room got quiet, people nodding, probably thinking about their own situations.  Stiles stood and stretched, “Okay, well thanks you guys. This has actually been really like.. cathartic for me.  And also extremely sobering.”

The bartender raised a bottle of Jameson and called out, “Bottle is on me, my friend.  Payment for the show!”

Stiles grinned and the small crowd roared.  Yeah, maybe New York wasn’t all that bad.

 

 

* * *

 

New York was horrible, Stiles thought, as he felt his way along the mostly empty streets at 3am.  He’d left his phone in his guitar case back with the band equipment from the concert.  He didn’t know where he was and he was extremely, wholeheartedly drunk.  He enjoyed the fact he was a rockstar if only for the fact that no one ID’d him.  No one gave two shits that he was barely 20.  He loved it.  He wasn’t loving it right now.

Stiles legitimately ran into a payphone, much to his delight, “Oh, fucking thank God.”  He said as he rubbed his face on the side of the phone, “Hello dear phone.  Stiles needs you.”

Shoving his hands in his pockets he pulled out four picks, two life savers, an unopened pack of cigarettes (He didn’t smoke, but you never know when someone would ask to bum one, he wanted to look cool), and…93 cents.

“Haha! Got it.  Pushing the coins in, he lifted the phone off its jack, “Oh fuck.  Scott doesn’t know New York any more than me…”  Stiles let out a harsh grumble before dialing the number he knew by heart.

After four rings, she answered sleepily, “Hello?”

“Hey, Lydsz.”

“Stiles?  Why the hell are you calling me at..3 in the morning!?”

He giggled, “Shhh, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  Um.  Okay, I’ll figure it out.  Okay, yeah.  Go back to sleep.  Yeah.  N’York’s not that big.  Can’t be hard.”

He heard her sigh, “What can’t be that hard?”

He looked around, “Well. There is a sign above me that says UPS.  And that’s all I got on my location.”

“God, Stiles, do you know how many UPS stores there are in New York City!?”

“Could you maybe stop yelling?”  He mumbled, “You’re distracted me?”

“I’m distracting you? You called me!”

He giggled again, “I did, didn’t I.  Okay shhh, hold on.  Okay this UPS store is on 57th street.  Ooooh, it’s also on the corner of 1st Avenue if you stand over there.” He pointed, not thinking about the fact that she couldn’t see him.

She sighed, “Stay where you are, Stiles.  I’m serious.  Give me twenty minutes.”

“Thanks, Lyds.  You’re the best.”

“I know.  Sit tight.”  She hung and he tried to put the phone back on its stand, unsuccessfully.

               

Like clockwork, Lydia showed up exactly twenty minutes later and rolled down her window, “Get in the car.”

He grinned, “You came!”  He climbed in and attempted to put his seat belt on for a few moments before she grabbed it from him and buckled it herself.

“Why the hell are you hammered, this far away from the Comcast building, at 3 in the freaking morning?” She looked over at him when he didn’t answer to find him just looking at her, “Stiles?”

“Why are you wearing my shirt?”  He responded, pointing to the faded Beacon Hills Lacrosse t-shirt that was swallowing her.

He watched as she looked down, her cheeks turning red, “Oh, it’s…soft.  I sleep in it.  Do you, um, do you want it back?”

He blew a loud puff of air out, shaking his head, “Nope.  It’s yours.  Less you were planning on taking it off right now to return it.  Then yes, I definitely wan’it.”

She narrowed her eyes in his direction before peeling out into the street again, “Shut up, Stiles.  You’re drunk.”

He nodded, “You’re right.  But you know what they say.  Drunk man’s thoughts are a sober man’s words.”

“That’s not what they say.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m pretty sure I know what they say, Lydia.”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing, “Okay, Stiles.  Where to?”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes, “Where is your hotel?”

He looked around and then out the window of the car, “Well, I don’t know.”  And then he laughed.

"It’s not funny!”  She replied, though she had managed to crack a smile herself.

He looked over at her and winked, “It’s a little funny.”

She sighed, and made a U-turn to head towards her apartment, “Stop winking it me.  It’s not as cute as you think it is.”

He held up his hands, “Well, excuse me.  Maybe I just only blink with one eye sometimes.  Where are we going?”

“Back to my place.  I have a very comfortable couch and Scott knows how to get there.  He can pick you up in the morning.”

He nodded dramatically, “That’s very logical of you, Ms. Martin.  A+++ for your plan making skillzz.”

She sighed, “I’m already regretting this.”


	5. Open the Door

When Lydia woke up this morning, she had not planned on seeing Stiles Stilinski.  And she had certainly not planned on cooking him a grilled cheese while he was in her shower, washing off the throw up he’d gotten on himself.  At least he’d made it out of her car and mostly into the bushes.  Mostly.

And yet, here she was at 3:30 in the morning, cooking her ex, (was he her ex?) her something, food.  Stiles slowly emerged from her bedroom in the jeans he had on before, since they had been spared in the incident, and the Lacrosse shirt she had just been in.  It was the only shirt big enough for him so she traded it out in favor of a loose black V-neck and some Nike shorts.

“Is that for me?”  He asked sheepishly.

“Well it’s certainly not for me.  I don’t eat carbs this late… or early, however you want to look at it.”

He stood a seat at her counter and laid his head in his arms, “Well, I feel considerably more sober.  And stupid.”

She nodded, sliding the plate towards him, “Eat.  Everyone gets drunk and stupid sometimes.  I’m sure it won’t be the last time.”

He looked around her place, “Nice apartment, by the way.  Very you.  Posh.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “I’m not always posh.”

He smiled, “No, sometimes you’re lacrosse t-shirts and Nike shorts.  Both are fine looks.”

She blushed and hated herself for it.

He continued, “Anyway, as soon as the sun comes up, I’ll get out of your hair.  This whole trip to the city has already been a little too dramatic for me.  I don’t have it in me to fight with you.”

She leaned against her counter, crossing her arms, “I don’t want to fight either.  But, maybe we should talk about things.”

He mimicked her from all those months ago, “There’s nothing to talk about, Lydia.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing, “Yes, I’m aware that I should’ve handled that conversation differently.”

He shook his head and wiped his hands on his jeans, “We shouldn’t have had it.  You were right, we weren’t a thing.  We never have been, I had just convinced myself we could’ve been under the right conditions.  That wasn’t fair to you.  You didn’t want me.  You wanted to go.  You wanted out.  I shouldn’t have said anything other than have a safe flight.”

“Stiles,” she looked down, trying to find the right words, “I’m not exactly the best at stating my feelings.”

“I’m aware.”

She raised her hand, signaling him to be quiet, “I just… yes, I wanted out.  But, I shouldn’t have said we never were a thing.  It was wrong of me to act like all of the things that happened between us never happened.”

“By all of the things, you mean all of the sex?”

She looked back at the floor and nodded, “Yep.”

“Yeah, that kind of blew.”

“Literally.”

He laughed loudly, “She still has the jokes.”

She smiled and grabbed a water out of the fridge, “Anyway, um, I have to be at a lab tomorrow so I’m going to go to bed.  I put sheets and blankets and a pillow on the couch.  You’re welcome to anything in the fridge or on Tv.”

He nodded and she walked by him.  As she passed him, he grabbed her arm and looked up at her, “Thank you for picking me up.”

She scrunched her nose in a smile and felt brave enough to lean over and brush a light kiss to his temple, “I’ll always come when you call, Stiles.”

 

Lydia left him sitting at the counter, finishing his sandwich.  She climbed back into her now cold bed and shut off the light, but not her mind, which was racing a mile a minute.  She laid there silently as she heard him wash his plate and then flip all the lights off.  She smiled as she heard him check the lock on the door.

She didn’t know what the hell was happening or what she even wanted out of his visit.  But she was quickly realizing that no matter how infuriating he was, she had smiled more tonight than she had in months.  She missed him.  Beneath this rocker façade he had on, he was still just Stiles.  Beautifully flawed.  She wished he could just read her mind.

Then he’d know.  He’d probably still be angry.  But he’d know.

She loved him.  And it terrified her.  She thought she had loved before, with Jackson.  But the day she realized she loved Stiles was the day she realized she had been wrong all along.  The thought of moving across the country from him felt like someone with boots stepping on her chest.  She knew it’d only get worse.  Call her horrible.  Call her a bitch.  She felt like one, but she didn’t think she could handle the worse.  So she bailed.

Turns out the worse happened with or without him.  She missed him like she would’ve if they had stayed together, only she didn’t get to tell him that.  Or hear his voice.  Or visit.  No, she and her pride stayed on the east coast, attempting to mend a shattered heart.  It was hard to mend something you were so pissed at for breaking itself on purpose.

But Lydia wouldn’t tell him any of that.  That’s the thing about pride.  It’s not called a mild sin.  Or a keep out of reach of children sin.  It was a deadly sin.  And Lydia was a pro.

Rolling over, she looked at her notifications.  There was a message from Isaac.

Isaac:  Maybe he doesn’t hate you.

Attachment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KA64gHs9gSI

Lydia clicked on it out of curiosity.  The video had been uploaded 20 minutes ago by a Drew J.  The title was, “Stiles from Pack Mentality debuting his new single and bearing his soul to a lucky bar full of fans.”

She hit play.

.

.

.

She stared at her screen long after it turned black.  Her vision blurry from tears she refused to let fall.  She heard a soft knock on her bedroom door.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before throwing her covers back and walking up to her door.  Instead of opening it, she spoke softly, “Stiles?”

“We should probably talk about that.”

She internally cursed her apartment building for having such thin walls.

“You came and saw me after the movie rental accident?”

He was quiet for a moment, “You called me Jackson and then passed out.  I didn’t think you’d want to know that.”

“You’d be correct.”

“Lydia?”

“Yeah?”  She held her breath.

“Open the door.”

She took a step back and then counted down from three silently, feeling her heart slamming in her chest. She knew what opening the door would mean.  She'd be stepping over the line she'd drawn firmly in the sand.  The thing about sand, though, is that with the right tide, it's easily washed away.

Slowly, but not hesitantly, she unlocked the door and pulled it back.

Lydia took a shaky breath as he took a step forward, “Stiles..”

He stood close enough she could feel his body heat and spoke, “I’ll go back in there and we can pretend you didn’t hear anything.  Just say that you don’t want me.  I’ll go.”

She bit her lip for a second, not breaking his eye contact, before she felt an invisible tide at their ankles and whispered, “I do,” she paused, “want you.”

His answer came in the form of a searing kiss.  She’d almost forgotten what being touched by Stiles felt like.  Almost.  Everywhere his hands roamed felt like fire.  She felt her back hit her dresser as he pressed against her.  She’d also almost forgotten that sex with him tended to be rougher than some.  Almost.  He was such a docile person, but not in the bedroom.  That had been a delightful surprise when they began their relationship.

Pushing him back, he leaned against the wall as he lifted her off of her feet, hands firmly grasping the backs of her thighs.  Their lips met again and she could feel his smug smile as he turned them around, using the wall for support, allowing a hand to roam.

“Shit!”  He spat out as she grinded down on him, causing her own smug smile to appear as she bit his lower lip, “Lydia… for fuck’s sake..”

She smiled at his loss for words, “Too much for you, rocker boy?”

She swears he growled, “Never enough.”

He abruptly turned and carried her to her bed, dropped her ungracefully onto her rumpled sheets.  She’d enjoyed the sloppy foreplay.  She knew that he knew it too.  Guys tended to try to make everything leading up to the deed a fucking Nicolas Sparks movie.  It turned her on beyond measure to not be seen as breakable.  He crawled above her as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He paused for a moment to wipe the hair that had gotten in her eyes out of the way, “God, you’re beautiful.”

“Even when I cry.”  She added, recalled the words he said to her so many years ago.

He smiled, "Even when you cry." And then he kissed her deeply, but not rushed like the one by her door had been.  She could feel that he was taking a step back to enjoy the moment of just being together.  She knew that’s what he was doing because it was what she was doing as well.

Her hands roamed the expanse of his back, underneath his shirt before pulling it up and over his head, “That shirt looks better on me.”

He moved from his thorough exploration of her mouth to her neck, peppering kissing from her jaw down to her sternum and back, leaving a trail of fire in his wake, “I’d have to agree with you.”

She pulled his head back up to connect with her mouth again and he very unceremoniously grabbed her shorts and yanked them down, causing her to laugh loudly into his mouth.

He pulled back and coughed at the unexpected amount of air forced into his lungs.

She began giggling, “Sorry. I’m so sorry. Sorry.”

He yanked his hands away from her body and used them to tickle her, “Oh you’re sorry, huh?”

“No, Stiles!! Stop!”  She laughed and wiggled about beneath him.

“Why should I stop?”  He questioned, barely containing his own laughter.

“If you…stopstopstopstop, Stiles!”  She writhed, “If you don’t stop, we can’t have sex!”

His hands immediately left her waist, “You make a convincing argument.”

She ran both hands slowly through his hair, feeling the length that hadn’t been there a year ago and leaned up to whisper in his ear, “I wanted to do that in the stairwell earlier.”

He looked down at her and she was beginning to notice more pupil than iris, “What else did you want to do?”

“Well,” she ran her hand over along his jaw as he clenched it, “That.”  She took her other hand and slowly trailed her fingertips down his abdomen, feeling his muscles tighten at the touch, until she reached the waistband of his boxer and then kept going, “And that.”

That was all it took to turn things back to the passion that had consumed them moments ago.  Hands roamed wherever they could.  Everywhere.  For Lydia, it was like breathing again after being without oxygen for a year.  She wanted to explore ever expanse of his body, memorizing it again.

 

They spent the next two hours catching up for the last year before completely exhausting themselves, falling silent beside one another.  Tucked into his side, Lydia began to doze before waking up entirely, looking at the arm he had wrapped around her.

“Stiles?”

“Hmm?  I physically cannot go another round.  You can’t make me.”  He mumbled into her hair.

“Is that my tree?”

He lifted his head and looked down to where she was rubbing her fingers across the ink, “It’s a tree.”

She looked at it harder, “The one I drew?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you get a tattoo of the tree I drew of the Nemeton?”

He sighed, rolling over to lay on his back, “Truth or something pleasant?”

“Truth, please.”

Stiles nodded, “Okay, well honestly, I got it as a reminder that you’re right.  You’re always right.  Every time I wanted to call or text or jump on an airplane I could look down and remember that you said you didn’t want me, and that it was the right choice for you.  Because you follow your instincts and more likely than not, they’re right.”

She turned toward him with an unreadable expression on her face, laying a hand on his chest, “Stiles, you need to know that--”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Can we please just have this moment?  Please.  I don’t want to ruin it, okay?”

She looked down at him for a moment, feeling the exhaustion from her day set in and she nodded, they could talk about it in the morning.  She wasn’t going to the lab.  She would sleep and in the morning she would tell him all the ways in which she had been wrong that day.  She laid her head on his chest, almost immediately falling into the best sleep she’d had in over a year.

 

So it’s understandable just how confused she was to wake up to an empty apartment.


	6. He'll Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting this chapter out a little early because this lady has a NYE party to attend. Hope everyone has a safe night!  
> Also, sorry for short length of this one and amount of angst that is about to take this fic over. I'm an angst whore and I'm not sorry about it.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Stiles shook his hands nervously as the elevator made its way up to the pent house.  He knew what he’d done and he hated himself for it.  He left her sleeping soundly in her bed when the sun came up.

What else was he supposed to do?  Wake up together, cook breakfast, lounge around, avoiding the elephant in the room.  No thanks, he’d pass.  No matter what last night was, she was the one that decided he wasn’t what she wanted only a year ago.  One moment of weakness didn’t change that. He couldn’t hold what had happened between them in the dark against her in the harshness of the morning light.

He was a coward who didn’t think he could take rejection from her twice.  So he left.

He would apologize.  He had a few more days in the city.  He just freaked out and left.  She’d understand, he told himself.  The doors to the elevator opened and he heard multiple gasps from the people in common area.

“Stiles!  What the fuck, man?!  Where have you been!?”  Scott descended upon him, grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around, “You okay? Alive?  What the fuck!”

Stiles grabbed his friend’s arm, “Hey, stop!  Yes, I’m fine.  I just got shit faced and couldn’t figure out how to get home.”  He tugged his leather jacket down a little nervously.  The last thing he needed was Scott seeing his lacrosse tee.  He’d know exactly where he’d really been.

“Why didn’t you call?”

Stiles shrugged, “I left my phone in my guitar case.  I didn’t have any change for a payphone so I just walked around.  Once I sobered up enough, I came back.  That’s all.”

Scott eyed him for a moment, “Well, I’m happy you’re okay… but management would rather you be dead.”

“Why?”  Stiles looked confused.

“Why?  Oh, I don’t know, Stiles.  Maybe that you released an acoustic version of a song I didn’t even know you were finished with to the public without having any protection for it.  They want us on the plane in 45 minutes to get back to LA to record it before someone beats us to it.”

Stiles sighed, “Fucking Drew.”

“What?”

“The guy who recorded it.  I didn’t think anything about it at the time.  I wasn’t exactly sober.”

Scott threw an arm over his friend, walking towards their rooms, “Yeah well, you’ll have plenty of time on the plane to think it over.”

Stiles stopped walking, “So, what happened to the three or four days we had to lounge around New York?”

Scott looked at him sympathetically, “We gotta go, man.  Maybe we can get a weekend soon and come back so you can finally talk to Lydia.  It sucks you missed her last night.”

Stiles scratched his forehead, thinking about everything that he should’ve done instead of leaving her this morning before nodding, “Yeah, next time.”

 

 

Stiles boarded the plane with a single thought.  He had let her slip through his fingers again.  And this time, he had no one to blame but himself.

 

 

 

Lydia woke up alone and angry.  Angry and alone.  Two things that shouldn't be mixed.  And should definitely not be mixed with Lydia's temper.

Did he really think she wouldn’t care that he left without telling her?  Did he even care about what had happened last night?  Did he even care at all or had he just wanted to get laid?  Was this the new rocker Stiles? 

Throwing back her covers, she climbed out of bed and haphazardly pulled on the clothes that had been tossed about the room hours earlier, only serving to make her angrier.

She grabbed her phone off her charger and went to her kitchen for coffee.  She had thirteen text messages, four missed calls and she didn’t even want to know how many Facebook notifications she had.  Stupid Stiles and his inability to keep their private life private.

“I’m going to fucking murder him.”  She said to no one in particular.  Anyone she had known in high school suddenly found the urge to contact her, asking if she’d seen the video.  Yes, trust her, she’d seen it.  And then slept with him as a result.  Fuck that video.  And screw Stiles Stilinski.

Listening to her voicemails, one in particular stood out.

“Hi Ms. Martin, this is Cat Sadler from E! News.  I’m calling to see if you could spare a little time to sit down and have a talk with me.  I’m sure you’re well aware of the rumors beginning to spread after last night’s show.  As much as I love getting a good story, my objective here is to get the right one.  Beat the rumors by releasing your own statement.  Please give me a call back at this number and we can schedule something.”

Lydia looked down at her phone, realizing she’d just received a phone call from a celebrity like it was nothing.  What the hell was her life turning into?  She was a college student.  She wasn’t the girlfriend or rumored ex of a rockstar. 

If he couldn’t be bothered enough to face what had happened between them, then she wasn’t anything to him as far as she was concerned.

She called back.

 

 

“So, Lydia, can I just say that you are absolutely gorgeous.  Is your hair natural?”  Cat was sitting comfortably across from her at a quaint café.

Lydia smiled, “Yep.  Never been dyed.”

“Wow.  I’d kill.  So, tell me a little about yourself.  What drew you to New York?”

Lydia took a sip of her tea, “Well, it’s on the other side of the country from California to begin with.”

“Not a fan of the golden state?”

“Just… ready for a change.  I go to Columbia here, so I’m just enjoying the new atmosphere and the people.”

Cat smiled kindly, “Oh, what’re you majoring in?”

“I’m double majored Molecular Biology and Mathematics with a minor in Women’s Studies.”

Cat sat her drink down and looked blankly at the girl for a moment, “Wow.  Just… wow.  I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

“I get that a lot actually.  I think it’s the shoes.”

The reporter laughed, “Okay, so, you’re a genius.  You’re absolutely stunning.  You’re charming.  How is it that two major dorks like Scott and Stiles ended up being such good friends with you?”

Lydia could tell she was easing slowly into the real questions. 

She shrugged, “Don’t let those boys fool you.  They’re extremely intelligent, despite their lack of common sense and general hygiene.”

Cat laughed, “Oh yeah?  Care to elaborate?”

“Well for starters, Stiles got into Berkeley and Scott was accepted in to UCSF.  I know Scott is still taking online classes.”

“You don’t know about Stiles?”

There it was.  Lydia shook her head, “Until last night, I hadn’t seen Stiles since the summer after high school.”

Cat took a sip of her drink, nodding, “So was this about the time that he began writing music?  I know he’s mentioned that they haven’t been doing music for very long.”

Lydia shrugged, “I wouldn’t know.  I’d assume.  I don’t remember him doing it back when we were..”

“When you were?”

“Close.”  Lydia finished.  She wanted to tell her side of the story, but she was at least going to make them work for it.

“So, you went to high school with these guys.  Are they really as genuine as they seem to be?”

Lydia smiled, “More so.  Co-captains of the Lacrosse team.  They volunteered at the Sherriff’s station and the animal clinic.  Scott’s a real leader, you know.  He cares more than anyone I know.  Stiles could take any problem, any situation, and figure a way out of it.  He’s always had a way of making things… bearable, if that makes sense.  High school kind of put us all through the ringer.  Their relentless optimism really kept us, all of our friends, “The Pack”, together.  If you were wondering where the name Pack Mentality came from, there’s a scoop for you.”

Cat smiled, but pressed on, “So what do you mean by putting you through the ringer?”

Lydia swallowed hard, “I’m not comfortable with going further into detail on that.  We just… we dealt with loss.” She knew if Cat wanted to, she could find the news report.  She just hoped she let it go.

“Understood.”  She nodded, “So, any idea who Stiles is referring to in Siren?”

Lydia met her gaze and with no hesitation, answered, “Me.”

Cat’s eyes lit up, “And how did that make you feel?  Do you have anything to say to him in return for lyrics like, _‘Why’d you stick around, why’d you stay with me?  Why’d you fake it?’_?

Lydia patted the corners of her mouth with a napkin and then folded it neatly into her lap before looking up and answering, “Actually, I do.  I want Stiles to know that he left his shirt in my apartment this morning when he snuck out before I woke up.”

Cat grinned ear to ear, “Oh honey.  I’ll make sure he knows.”

Lydia stood and held out her hand, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.”  


 

 

 

 

 

 

Stiles was climbing off of the plane when his got a news alert on his phone.  He’d programed it to notify him if a quality news source mentioned him.  He clicked the link that sent him to an online article on E!

 

_Lydia Martin was the show stealer of last night’s Saturday Night Live.  For those of you unaware, the singer of Pack Mentality stopped in the middle of his song when he noticed a friend in the crowd._

_The moment was captured and social media went crazy, claiming she was the girl from the song.  The rumor mill began running and only intensified when Stiles sang a never before heard song at a local pub before telling the story of the “siren”._

_I met up with the red-headed beauty this morning over coffee to clear the air.  I’ll release the entire interview on tonight’s segment of E! News, but I decided to release the abridged version right now in order to curb some of the useless gossip surrounding this story._

_Highlight Reel:_

  1. _Lydia Martin is quite possibly the most beautiful, intelligent person I’ve had the pleasure of meeting._
  2. _She goes to Columbia, where she is a double major in fields that make me cry just thinking about them._
  3. _I have a girl crush on Lydia Martin._
  4. _She, Scott, and Stiles were best friends in high school and she swears they are as wonderful as they seem._
  5. _She still keeps in touch with Scott. She and Stiles grew apart after high school._
  6. _Most likely due to the fact that they broke up. Though, she did not confirm they were ever an item._
  7. _She did, however, confirm that she is the subject in their song, Siren._



_The rest of the story will break at 8/7c.  You won’t want to miss her message to him._

_Cat_

Stiles slapped his hand over his forehead and exhaled loudly, “Well, fuck.”


	7. Rule #1:  Don't Quote Hannah Montana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love love love hearing all of your feedback! It really helps. Thanks for keeping up with it! This was meant to be a four or five chapter work I did over break. It's become one of my favorite fics I've worked on. I wouldn't be writing it if you weren't reading it, so thank you so much!!

“I walked around until I sobered up MY ASS!” Scott yelled at his friend as they rode toward the studio, “Do you have any fucking idea how… Lydia is not someone you just… you can’t just.. I literally have lost the ability to complete sentences I’m so mad right now.”

Stiles held his head in his hands between his knees and mumbled, “Keep going.  I want to hear how shitty I am.  Please.”

Scott shook his head, collecting his thoughts, “Stiles, Lydia isn’t just some girl you pick up at a bar and then forget about the next day.  I can’t fucking believe you right now.  You tell a crowd full of people about how much you love this girl.  She picks you up in the middle of the night, feeds your drunk ass, and clothes you.  She lets you in, man.  Isn’t that like, all you’ve wanted?!”

Stiles looked up, “I wanted her to have never pushed me out in the first place!  I want this whole fucking year to have disappeared is what I want!  I don’t care about the fancy cars or the screaming fans.  I just want it to be what it used to be.”

“Well I hate to break it to you, man, but you can’t reverse time.  You have to deal with the shit storm you caused.”

Stiles sat quietly for a minute, looking out the window, “I didn’t know I wasn’t going to get the chance to go back and talk to her.  But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”  He breathed heavily with frustration.

Scott rolled his eyes, “Don’t you think her, I don’t know, SLEEPING WITH YOU, kind of cancels out an argument you two had over a year ago?”

“It wasn’t an argument, Scott.  It was a decision that she made.” He punched his fist into his open palm, “Not in the middle of the night.  Not after watching me bear my soul to a crowd of strangers.  Not when I was standing in her personal space.  She wanted out.  She didn’t want me.  She said as much last night.” He rubbed the 5 o’clock shadow beginning to grown and leaned his head back, “Whatever happened last night doesn’t change any of that.”

The car stopped and Scott opened the door, “Dude, it could have.  And now you’ll never know.”

Stiles followed him inside, trying his best to ignore his friend’s wise words.  Stiles wasn’t wise.  He was too proud to be wise.  And you couldn’t be both.

 

 

They had the song recorded by midnight that night.  Stuck in the studio, they hadn’t checked their phones or turned on the TV.  They probably should have.

As he turned his phone back on, it was bombarded with messages, missed calls, etc.  He ignored all of the calls except one.  His dad.

 

After the third ring, he picked up, “Stiles?”

“Hey Dad, what’s up?”

His dad slowly exhaled, “You know I love you, right?”

"What?”

“I distinctly remember only allowing you to drop out of college to pursue music if you swore not to turn into a shit head.”

Stiles leaned against the building, “Um, I remember?”

“You haven’t seen her message to you yet, have you?”

Stiles’ eyes widened, “Oh shit.  I forgot there was more!”

“Yeah.  There was more.  Just, do me a favor and fix it.  If I have to choose between you and Lydia, I… I don’t want to make that choice.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.  His dad had grown quite attached to her in the few months that everything was good between them, “Is it that bad?”

“Good luck, son.”

He heard the line go dead and he pulled up the app, loading the video of his news segment.

               

_"Well I just have to say, for as many nice things that they had to say about each other, there is definitely a missing piece to the puzzle on what happened between the two of them.  I interviewed Stiles at his after party.  He said, and I quote, ‘I could go on all night about her, she’s fantastic.”  She said that he made life more bearable and was ‘relentlessly optimistic’.  Similarly, they both deny ever being together.  Stiles said, ‘We are not now nor have we ever been an item.’  Seems pretty clear cut._

_And it would be had there not been someone standing in a stairwell conveniently the night of the performance, over hearing their reunion._

_According to source, and this is hearsay, the two began arguing almost immediately upon seeing each other.  From what the source recalls, Lydia told him that she hadn’t meant to hurt him, to which he responded by telling her that he wanted her to leave._

_You don’t want to miss the ending to this mystery, coming to you after the commercial break.”_

Stiles quickly clicked on the skip ad and the video resumed.

_“Cat Sadler back with you, here to tell you the truth behind the mystery couple or not couple, Stiles and Lydia._

_Jumping back into the timeline, according to our source, she left after he told her to, telling him that she hoped this argument would help him write another hit.  Ouch._

_This brings me to this morning’s interesting chat with the lovely red-head, though Stiles was quick to correct me last night that it was actually strawberry blonde._

_I point-blank asked her who the girl behind Pack Mentality’s Siren was and she answered with no hesitation that it was her.  I asked her if she had anything to say to him in response to such a harsh portrayal of herself.  Now, this interview was recorded with her approval, so let’s listen to the clip of her answer.”_

**_“I want Stiles to know that he left his shirt in my apartment this morning when he snuck out before I woke up.”_ **

_“There you have it, folks.  Maybe they were never an official item and it seems after last night, they certainly won’t be in the future.  We’ve reached out to Stiles’ publicist, but so far, no response.  Back to you, Ryan.”_

Stiles stared at his screen as he clenched his jaw, unable to process what had just happened.  Lydia Martin.  His Lydia Martin, purposefully outed herself, met with a reporter, and fucking destroyed him within a couple of hours.

He stuffed his phone in his pocket and got in the car waiting to take him back to his apartment, where he knew Scott and the others would be, Scott not having waited for him after the studio session ended.  He didn’t need to be alone with his thoughts right now.  He needed a drink.

 

 

 

Scott passed him another shot, “I’m only letting you get slaughtered because this has been one shitty day for your public image.  However, I'm still pissed.”

“Got it.” He said before throwing his head back with the vodka, “I gotta make a statement for the publicist to give tomorrow.  Tommy boy isn’t happy with me.”

Scott shrugged, “He’s our manager.  He gets paid to manage shit.  It’ll be fine.  What are you going to say?”

Stiles looked over to where Kira and Malia were playing Mario Kart and Isaac was reading, none of them paying him any attention.  If he were slightly sober, he’d be hurt that they were siding with Lydia, but drunk Stiles was fine with being the one who got shit on.  They’d done their fair share of being pissed at Lydia last year.  He guessed it was his turn.

“I guess that I’m sorry?  I don’t know.  I’ll think of something.  You know what, I’m gonna call her.”  He slurred, reaching for his phone.

Scott grabbed it, “Yeah, how about not a chance, buddy.  You can call her tomorrow when you’re sober.”

“Well then you call her!”

Scott thought for a moment and then shrugged.  He did actually want to make sure she wasn’t pissed at him as an extension of Stiles, “Okay, but I’m going outside.”

Stiles nodded and Scott opened the window that let out to their tiny terrace and dialed her number.

She picked up after the second ring, “Hello?”

“Hey, Lyds.”

“Hey, Scott.”

“So…”

He heard her huff on the other end of the line, “I’m not mad at you.”

“Oh thank God.  I just, you never know, ya know.”

She laughed lightly, “If you did something that upset me, I wouldn’t take it out on someone else.  Same goes for him.”

“About him.”

“I don’t regret going on record.  Better to get it over with than to watch the rumors grow.”

Scott nodded, “No, I get it.  Maybe could’ve done without your personal message to him.  But I get it.”

“If Stiles can release a personal message to me that I’ve had to hear every single day for the last month about how shitty I am, he can deal.”

Scott nodded again, “So, you and him last night, huh?”

“I’m not having a sex talk with you, Scott McCall.  We’re close.  Not that close.”

“Got it.  I just meant, I’m sorry that he’s an idiot.  But if it’s any consolation, he’s pretty fucked up about it over here.”

There was silence on the other end for a few moments before she responded, “I don’t want to know how he’s doing, Scott.  I don’t want to care anymore.  I thought last night was… I don’t know.  A fresh start, maybe.  I thought we could find what we lost, but waking up to an empty apartment, I just… it’s over for us.  He’s not going to forgive me for leaving the first time and I’m not going to get over him jumping on that plane this morning.  There’s just no more trust.”

“So you want to just call it, after everything?”

He didn’t see her as she shook her head and wiped a tear from her cheek, “I don’t want to, Scott.  The only thing I want is him.  But last year, I told him we wouldn’t work.  And today I realized I was right.”

Scott sighed, giving in, “I love you, Lyds.  You know that, right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.  We’re not done with this conversation, but I’m gonna go or he’s going to wonder what we could’ve been talking about for so long.  ”

“Okay.  Night, Scott.”

“Goodnight, Lydia.”

 

 

Scott wanted to throw his phone off the terrace right then and there.  His two best friends were 3000% right for each other and 4000% unable to see it over the amount of pride obstructing their views.

 

 

_“Just a quick update on the Stiles and Lydia story we’ve been covering over the couple of days.  I was able to reach Stiles late last night and he released his own statement in response to Ms. Martin’s interview._

_It reads and I quote, ‘Everybody makes mistakes.  Everybody has those days.  Everybody knows what I’m talking about.  Everybody gets that way.’”_

_Cat Sadler grinned into the camera, “God, I love these kids.”_


	8. That's What I Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. Long list of song credits here. The idea is that you can go and listen to these songs and get an idea of what they'd sound like if Stiles were singing them.  
> Drive - Halsey. Honest(Sirens) - The Neighbourhood. Shadow Preachers - Zella Day. I Don't Know You At All - Matthew Mayfield. Flawless - The Neighbourhood. Stick - Ingrid Michaelson. Love You Crazy - Mikky Ekko. Bleed - Hot Chelle Rae. Heart In Wire - Matthew Mayfield. Beach - The Neighbourhood. Medicine - The 1975. Scars - James Bay.
> 
> Also, I told you angst was coming. ANGST IS HERE. I want to say I'm sorry, but I'm not.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I hope you all like The 1975. Because...reasons.

Five months later:

 

“Stiles! Get your ass out here!”

Stiles heard Scott call from the living room as he turned his phone over absentmindedly in his hands, looking out of his window.

Tonight was the album release party.  The album dropped officially in two days.  Management was announcing who they’d be touring with tonight.  Even they didn’t know yet.  He’d been possessed these last few months, writing song after song.  They came to him as quickly as his thoughts of her did.

He looked over at the final CD sitting on his desk.  It was basically the product of her radio silence over the last five months.  After he had drunkenly grabbed his phone while Scott wasn’t looking and called Cat personally to release his own statement without discussing it with his management team, he’d been in the dog house to say the least.  With everyone.  His dad called him an idiot every time they spoke.  Scott still loved him, but his phone was confiscated if he had as much as one beer.  Everyone that had an opinion felt free to share it with him.  Media was divided.  Some thought it had been hilarious.  Some didn’t.  The only person who seemed to have absolutely no opinion was Lydia herself.  He’d called and texted.  He’d written her letters.  Plural.  Nothing.

He knew she had started seeing someone because she’d been posting things on Instagram showing her holding hands or two coffee cups, things like that.  But he didn’t care.  Well, he cared.  But he also understood.  He wanted her to know that he got the message loud and clear.  He fucked up.  Call him prideful, call him ignorant, but he didn’t see the guy as a threat, just an obstacle.

If the last five months had done anything for him, it was force him to grow up.  He’d spent a year after they ended things feeling sorry for himself.  Feeling inadequate and stupid for thinking they were something real.  Hindsight was 20/20.  Of course they’d been real.  You don’t spend years keeping each other alive and being each other’s emotional tether and not come away with a real relationship.

Maybe they weren’t together now.  Maybe she chose herself over them back in her bedroom after graduation.  Maybe he chose his pride over having a real conversation back in New York.  But that didn’t mean things couldn’t be different in the future… you know, after the Hannah Montana quote dies down.  He once told Scott that he had a 15 year plan for making her fall in love with him.  Maybe he’d have to stretch it out to 20, but the plan is definitely still in motion.

The album was how he could let out what he’d been forced to keep to himself by her silence.  Picking it up, he turned it over to look at the track list.

  1. Drive
  2. Sirens
  3. Shadow Preachers
  4. I Don’t Know You At All
  5. Flawless
  6. Stick
  7. Love You Crazy
  8. Bleed
  9. Heart In Wire
  10. Beach
  11. Medicine
  12. Scars



He stood and looked into the mirror.  Running his hands through his hair.  He’d gotten a haircut of sorts.  Some off the sides, not much off the top.  He liked it.  Grabbing some timberlands from his closet and a white tee shirt.  He paired that with black jeans and a denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up.  It would do. 

 

Scott grinned and looked down as Stiles entered the room, “Well, one of us is going to have to change.”

Stiles threw his head back laughing as he looked down to see his friend in the same exact outfit, “Be right back.”

Switching out his shoes for dark brown boots and his white tee for a Killers band tee and a faded flannel shirt rolled up, he headed back down stairs, “Better?”

Scott nodded, “You look cooler than me now.  But whatever.  We’re late.”

 

They rode quietly in the back of a Range Rover their manager gave them for the night.  Stiles’ leg constantly shot up and down, giving into his nerves.

“Dude, you okay?”

Stiles bit a nail as he shrugged, “Of course.  Why would you ask?  Do I not look fine?  Don’t I seem cool and collected?”

“No?”

“Oh.  Well then no, I’m nervous as hell.  All this music we’ve been working on.  It’s finally coming out.  What if it secretly sucks and no one told us?  What if it’s alright but not good enough?  What if--”

“What if Lydia doesn’t get the message?”

He glanced over at his friend and shrugged, “Something like that.”

Scott patted his shoulder as the car came to a stop, “Pretend you’re not shitting yourself and get out of the car.  Ignore the paparazzi and head inside.  Say hey to people.  Smile.  When you see her, smile politely.  If she approaches you, say hey.  If she doesn’t, you gotta respect that, bro.”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah, got it.  Thanks.  It’s weird being back in New York.”

“It’s just a couple of days.”

Stiles nodded again and opened the door, taking in the flashing bulbs with a grin.  He didn’t care about them.  He cared that Lydia could be inside already.  When Kira told him she’d invited her he did his best to seem unaffected.  He hoped he did a better job tonight.  The two walked in quickly with their security and up the stairs to where the party had already started.  Kira, Malia, and Isaac were there waiting for them.

Isaac wrapped his arms around Malia, pulling her close and whispered, “How long do we have to stay?”

She shrugged, “Long enough to see if everything goes to shit or not.  If it’s boring, we’ll leave.”

He nodded, satisfied.

Stiles greeted some bigshots in the industry and grabbed a drink, looking around for her, though trying to seem like he wasn’t.

“The label just told Tom who we’ll be touring with and he just pulled me aside and told me.  You want to know?”  Scott asked with a smirk.

“Um, hell yes??”

Scott grinned, “Fucking The 1975!”

Stiles’ eyes widened and they high fived, “Are you kidding me!? Oh my god!”

The two embraced and then Stiles pulled back, “This is gonna be sick.  They’re so fucking cool.”

“I agree.”

They turned to see Matty Healy standing behind them, grinning.

Stiles tried to play off his inner fan girl, “Dude, so stoked to be opening for you.  We just found out, like literally right now.”

He nodded, still grinning but it was tinged with awkwardness, “So did I, actually.  Just yesterday.  We’re under the same label and they decided it’d be the best fit.  Of course, I totally agree.  I just don’t want to make things weird.”

Stiles looked to Scott, who looked equally confused, “Why would things be weird?”

The same confusion spread to his face, “Because I’ve been seeing Lydia for a few weeks, which I thought she told Scott but she apparently did not.”

Stiles and Scott froze.  This was not happening.  Scott recovered before Stiles did, “How’d you meet her?”

He shrugged, “To be completely honest, I watched the youtube clip of your SNL concert and just thought she was really pretty.  Saw the Cat Sadler segment on her and me and Cat are tight so I just called her and asked for Lydia’s number.  Turns out she’s a lot more than a pretty face.”  He paused, looking between the two, “This is weird isn’t it?”

Scott looked to his friend, “You know what, it’s all good.  We’ve spent plenty of time hanging out with exes.  We’ll deal.  Right, Stiles?”

Stiles came back into focus hearing his name, “Yeah, totally.  We never actually dated, so she’s not even my ex.”

Matty nodded, “Right, well, glad to have you two on board.  Enjoy your night.  You deserve it.”

They both nodded as he walked off.  Once he was out of ear shot Stiles lost it, “Fucking fuck shit fuck fuck, damn it!!”

“Stiles, calm the hell down!”  Scott pulled his friend down into a booth, “We can throw shit and be angry at home.  Deal with it tonight.”

Stiles nodded and looked out over the crowd of people, “It’s just…It’s.. he’s.. he’s so cool.  And British.  And his hair is cooler than mine.  And he’s British.”

“You already said that.”

“I repeated it for emphasis.”

Scott shook his head, “I think you’re over reacting.  They’ve just been dating for a couple of weeks.  Weeks.  You two have years of history.  You’ll figure something out.”

Stiles punched the table once, “This is bullshit.  How the hell am I supposed to go on a full tour with them while he’s dating her?”

“It’s not like she’ll come.  You know Lydia, she takes summer classes."  He paused, "Speaking of…”

Stiles followed Scott’s gaze to the entrance of the room and his breath caught in his throat.  She was breathtaking.  She had on a checkered dress and a black leather jacket with her hair flowing down in soft waves. 

“Shit!”  Stiles ducked down in the booth before she had the chance to see him, “Okay, here’s the plan.  I’m going to die now and you learn to sing and go on tour. Yeah?”

“No.”

“Okay, how about I hire a girlfriend so it doesn’t seem like I’m the loser that I am?”

“No.”

“Can I get drunk?”

“No.”

Stiles bit his lip and dropped his head onto the table, “Fine.”

Scott leaned over and patted his shoulder, “Good boy.  Look alive, here she comes.”

 

* * *

 

Lydia was not aware that Matty and Stiles would be touring together until last night.  She’d stayed up the entire night with her hand hovering over Stiles’ number, willing herself to just tell him.  She didn't.  She couldn't. 

So instead, she got up, got dressed, and came to a party they’d both be at.  She briefly thought of calling him before she left, give him fair warning.  But the thought of speaking after five months and it being on the phone just seemed wrong.  She also got re-pissed at him momentarily while reading a Perez Hilton article about his new music video.

 

_Exclusive!  Pack Mentality’s front man Stiles Stilinski seen out with Suburgatory actress, Jane Levy._

_The singer known for his raspy voice and killer lyrics and his best friend, Scott McCall, have been making waving across the music scene.  Mostly for their music.  A little for their faces._

_ _

 

 

_Stiles, you know him, you love him or love to hate him, has been quiet in the news following the statement he released early this year referring to his hook-up with ex-girlfriend, Lydia Martin, in Hannah Montana lyrics._

_Pack Mentality’s music video for the new single off their debut album, Shadow Preachers, features the fiery red-head, Levy, as Stiles’ opposite.  The video portrays a young couple in a toxic relationship. The pair (Stilinski and Levy) seemed anything but toxic last night at Greystone Manor, a popular nightclub in L.A._

_It doesn’t take much to see why she was chosen to portray his estranged lover._

_(Levy pictured to the left.  Martin on the right.)_

 

_I mean…_

    

_Whether or not you see Stiles as the victim or the assailant in his rocky relationship, you have to admit, the man has great tastes.  And the casting director of his music videos deserves a raise._

She huffed, re-reading the article.  They didn’t look all that much alike besides the hair and the general bone structure and their skin tone and facial expressions.  Whatever.  Lydia chose to focus on the fact that she looked hot in the pictures.  Since Stiles’ idiotic statement, she’d had the bright lights of New York photographers at her disposal.  Maybe she was a scientist, that didn’t mean she couldn’t model occasionally.

She didn’t know if the article was credible at all.  It was Perez Hilton... It still pissed her off as much, if not more, than watching the video had.  She shook her head, reminding herself that it didn’t matter who he was with now.  She was seeing someone she really liked and he was free to do whatever in the hell he wanted for all she cared.  It wasn’t her business anymore.

 

She barely had time to let it really sink in that she was in the same room as the guy she’d sworn she’d never talk to again before she spotted Scott and Stiles sitting not far from the entrance.  She took a deep breath and willed herself to walk over there.  She knew there were reporters around and the last thing she needed was more bad publicity between the two of them.

Both boys stood up at she approached and instead of saying something, anything remotely normal, she started with, “I bought you that shirt.”

Stiles looked down at his Killers shirt and realized that she was right.  He’d spent all of the summer between Junior and Senior year making her listen to them whenever he could.  Malia liked whatever you gave her to listen to, so it had always been fun trying to convince Lydia of the worthiness of a band.

He smiled at the memory, “You want it back or..?”

A small amount of tension eased away, “No.  Sorry, I just noticed it is all.”

Stiles nodded and then didn’t say anything else.  As she looked at him face to face, the anger she had felt only moments ago faded quickly.  More quickly than she’d like.  She was supposed to hate him.  But how could you hate a face like that.  Especially when he was looking at you like you hung the moon.

Scott took their silence as his cue to gather her in a hug, “I’ve missed you, Lyds.”

“You too.”  She smiled as he embraced her.  She really had.  She’d missed them both, “How long are you two in town for?”

Stiles took the question, “The album drops in a couple of days so we’re going to stay here for that.  Then we’ve got a couple of free weeks before the tour starts and we’re gonna head back to Beacon Hills for a bit, hang with family..”

She nodded, “About the tour, I..”

Stiles held up his hand, “Yeah, Matty beat you to it.”

She looked down, “I was going to tell you both, it’s just… he’s never early for anything.  I thought I’d get here first.”

Stiles shrugged and smiled, “It’s fine.  Really.”

“Really?”  She looked up at him.  In the five months since she’d seen him he seemed to have gotten broader, if that’s possible.  His muscles clung tightly to the shirt she had bought him when he was a scrawny 17 year old.  She tried to focus on his face, but that seemed prettier too.

He took a deep breath, “Look, things with us have been nothing but shit for far too long.  I used to live to see that smile on your face so as long as he puts one there, I’m happy for you.  Let’s just put everything else behind us and forget it happened.”

Her heart should’ve felt lighter hearing those words, but somehow she felt like she was sinking into ice water, “Is that what you want?"

Stiles reached out and squeezed her arm for a second, “That’s what I want.”

Scott interrupted the moment, “I’m super happy that you’re being civil and all adult like and everything, but they want us on stage.”

Stiles smiled one more time at her and then turned toward the stage.  Scott rolled his eyes as they made their way up there.  His friends suck.  You can’t just put things behind you and pretend they didn’t happen.  He could already feel the disaster approaching.

Once onstage their manager, Tom, announced, “It is my pleasure to announce that Pack Mentality has just signed a contract to be The 1975’s opening act on tour this summer.”

The room of people irrupted in cheers.

Tom continued, “This year has been monumental for these two boys and I could not be prouder.  They’re young and their pretty stupid and I’ve never had more fun in my career.  I’m so excited for the rest of the world to hear what they’ve put together.  It’s 12 of the realist tracks I’ve ever heard.  What I love about Pack Mentality is the fact that they aren’t afraid to hurt feelings or to say what needs to be said in a song.  I can’t wait to watch these guys take over the world. ” He raised his glass, “Cheers to new beginnings!”

Stiles and Scott raised their champagne flutes and cheered.

Lydia watched them with pride in her eyes.  Her two best friends deserved a little bit of joy after the life they'd led for the last few years.  And they deserved happiness.  She could see happiness oozing from Scott every time he smiled.  There was a time when she could say the same for Stiles.  But there was something empty in those big eyes of his and she’d give just about anything to see them full again.

She felt an arm around her shoulder and she looked up, “I thought we were keeping things quiet?”  She eyed her boyfriend with a brow raised.

He shrugged, “Might as well let the cat out of the bag.  They’ll figure it out when they see you on tour with us.

Her stomach dropped, “Oh shit.”

“What?”  He looked down, concerned.

She raised her hand gesturing towards Stiles, “I didn’t think about him actually being on tour every day.  Like, I knew he was going but it just kind of clicked that I am too.”

Matty smiled, “Don’t worry, love.  I already talked to him and he said he was perfectly fine with us together.”

“He did?”

“Yep.  Said you two weren’t even really exes so things won’t be awkward.  You know, I like the guy.  A little spazzy and all over the place.  But then again, so am I.”

Lydia nodded with a tense smile and chose to focus on the stage again instead of the words she did not want to hear.  She realized that Stiles had a guitar on and Scott was moving around to his drum kit.

 

“You all have no idea how much this experience has meant to us.  Less than two years ago we were two kids in high school playing lacrosse and staying out too late with our friends.”  Stiles eyes met with Lydia’s for a moment.

Scott was handed a mic and he added, “We couldn’t do what we do without having the support of our family and friends.  I just want to take a second to thank my mom and Stiles’ dad for their unwavering love and discipline that kept us alive and gave us what we needed to make it in the real world.”

Stiles added, “And we also want to thank all our friends.  The ones here tonight specifically, Isaac, the biggest pain in my ass.”  Everyone laughed, “You know I love you, man.  Malia, you never fail to be agonizingly blunt.  Your honesty has kept us humble.  Kira, thank you for loving my best friend.  You make each other better, which makes me better.”  He smiled and took a deep breath, his eyes finding Lydia’s again, “And Lydia.  From third grade to you walking in here tonight, you’ve always kept me on my toes.  Our relationship has had its ups and downs but I wouldn’t trade it for anything and I wouldn’t be the person I am without your friendship.  Thank you.  Thank all four of you.”

With that the crowd started clapping and he put his mic in its stand and started strumming lightly. 

The crowd quieted and the song began.

**You got those scissors from the drawer**  
 **You never dug so deep before**  
 **If I stop trying, we start dying**  
 **You're cutting me out, baby who you fighting?**  
  
**Who you fighting?**  
 **Who you fighting?**  
  
**You make we wanna love, hate, cry, take, every part of you**  
 **You make me wanna scream, burn, touch, learn, every part of you**  
 **Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh**  
  
**I close my eyes, just close the door**  
 **You want a minute, I'll give you more**  
 **Maybe I don't want you either**  
 **We're both unsettled, nighttime creatures**  
 **Shadow preachers, nighttime creatures**  
  
**You make we wanna love, hate, cry, take, every part of you**  
 **You make me wanna scream, burn, touch, learn, every part of you**  
 **Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh**  
  
**You wanna break, you break alone**  
 **You wanna leave, you're on your own**  
 **You wanna break, you break alone**  
 **You wanna leave, you're on your own**  
  
**You make we wanna love, hate, cry, take, every part of you**  
 **You make me wanna scream, burn, touch, learn, every part of you**

Stiles wiped the sweat from his face with the bottom of his t shirt, causing Lydia to inhale sharply.  She wasn’t sure if it was the song, his abs, or the tattoo that wasn’t there five months ago that caused it.

Matty squeezed her shoulder, “Fucking sick.  I can’t wait to hear the rest of the album.”

Lydia nodded, internally cringing.  She could only imagine what else was on there.  She didn’t want to hear the rest.  But she also desperately wanted to hear the rest.

Malia came up and nudged her, not even acknowledging the man draped over her, “Like it?”

“Yeah, they sound so good.”

Malia nodded, “Yeah they do.  Look, no one is arguing or getting extremely drunk, so me and Isaac are going to head out.  You should come over sometime this week and hang out before we head back to L.A.”

“Are you guys going on tour?”

Malia nodded, “We are.  We’re just gonna go home for a bit and relax and then pick up Hayden and Liam.”

It donned on Lydia that she hadn’t introduced her boyfriend to Malia yet, “Oh god, I’m always the worst at this.  Sorry, Malia, this is Matty, my--”

“Yeah, I know who he is.”  Malia waved her hand dismissively and looked over their shoulders toward the buffet table, “I’m going to grab the rest of those crab cakes.”

And she was gone.

Lydia looked up at Matty, who was laughing, “She’s delightful.”

She smiled, “So are you.”

He leaned down and kissed her quickly, but not quickly enough judging by the few photos they heard snap.

He pulled back and shrugged, “Let the rumor mill fly.”

She took his hand as they headed to a booth of some people he knew.  She didn’t think there would ever be a day when she could be in the same space as Stiles and not feel when he was looking at her.  Looking up, her intuition proved correct.  She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or let down by the fact that he just smiled genuinely and went back to chatting with some members of Misterwives.

Let down, if she was honest with herself.


	9. That Ain't My Imagination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flawless - The Neighbourhood.  
> Heart in Wire - Matthew Mayfield.
> 
> Heart in Wire is probably one of my favorite songs at the moment. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Stiles tossed the last of his bags under the bus and stretched, rubbing his hands over his scruffy face.  He looked over to his dad and Melissa standing by their cars.  Walking over, he noticed Scott twitching uneasily.  He could already see the full moon beginning to rise.  What a way to kick off a tour.

Scott took a deep, steadying breath and hugged his mom one more time.

“You’ll call more than once a week, okay?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

Stiles hugged her as well, “We’ll take care of each other.”

Stiles’ dad embraced him next, “Don’t do anything stupid, alright?”

The boys grinned.

“I’m serious.”  He added.

Stiles nodded, “What on earth could we possibly get into?”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes and pulled his son in for a tight hug, “Just take care of yourself.  Inside and out.”

Stiles lost his mischievous smirk and held onto to his dad for a little while, “I will.”

 

Stiles climbed on board the bus and pulled out his phone to pull up some music.  Scott sat down beside him and pulled out his as well.  Isaac, Malia, Kira, Liam, and Hayden were already settled in for the ride.

“I can’t believe we’re going on tour.” Liam said to no one in particular.

Isaac addressed Stiles, “Dude, you see the Buzzfeed article about the tour yet?”

Stiles rolled his eyes.  Ever since it came out that Lydia and Matty were a thing, the media had done everything in their power to make it seem like there was a rift between the two rockers.  But the truth was, he liked the guy.  They had a lot of similarities and he was good to Lydia.  That was all there was to it.  He wasn’t in the business of trying to woo someone who was happy.  He could be patient.

  
“Nah, what is it this time?”

“11 Reasons The 1975 Tour Will Implode.  All 11 reasons are just pictures of you and Lydia.  Here, look.”

Stiles took the phone and looked.

 

_11 Reasons The 1975 Tour Will Implode_

 

_1) Feast your eyes upon this specimen.  Or as some of you call him, Stiles from Pack Mentality._

  
   
_2) Now feast your eyes on this specimen, Lydia Martin. Some of you may know her as Matty Healy’s girlfriend.  I like to refer to her as Stiles’ future wife.  But whatever.  To each their own_.

  
   
  
_3) Now feast your eyes on them together. (+ adorbs Scott)_

  
   
 4 _) Just friends.   That sounds fake, but okay._  
   
   
_5) Everyone's facial expression when told they were going on tour together._  
   
   
_6) Can we… can we just. THIS PICTURE._

  
   
_7) Look at all the friends they have in common.  So much historyyyyyy._

  
_  
_ _8) You guys._

  
_  
_ _9) I can’t even._

  
   
_10) I’m not saying they’re going to cause this tour to implode._

  
   
_11) But I’m definitely saying they’re going to cause this tour to implode._

 

_*The pictures used were taken by Beacon Hills students who, lucky for me, had a running bet as to when these two would finally get together. A little stalkerish?  Maybe.  Helpful for this post?  Absolutely._

 

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Man, journalism is really at its peak.”

“They’ll get bored of this story soon enough.”  Malia answered.

Isaac took the phone back, “I hope not.”

Stiles just rolled his eyes and put his headphones on.

 

They showed up a few hours later at their first show.  They started big.  Las Vegas.

Their moderately smaller tour bus pulled up next to the other one and they climbed out, stretching.  Stiles looked over at the bigger bus and held his breath, knowing who was about to climb out.  He had to quickly re-adjust his tour expectations when he found out Lydia was in fact not taking summer classes but had decided to enjoy herself and go on tour.  He tried not to think about the fact that she and Matty had only been seeing each other for like one maybe two months and she willingly gave up school to spend the summer with him.  Whatever, he reminded himself.  Just an obstacle.

Lydia hopped off the bus and strode over to the gang, embracing the younger pair she hadn’t seen since her own graduation, “Oh my god, look at you two!”

They smiled as they pulled back.  She turned to Hayden, “I’m so glad another girl is coming on this thing.  Malia, Kira, and I weren’t going to cut it when all these boys around.”

Stiles interrupted by flexing his arm muscles, “Um, excuse me.  Men.  All these men around.”

Everyone laughed, clearly relieved that whatever tension the two of them were dealing with had been buried beneath the surface for now.

Lydia smiled.  She was glad things were lighter between the two.  There was a lot of bad blood and she was thankful that at least for the time being, they’d decided to move past it.  She looked around at her friends and decided that this tour could work.  She was happy with Matty and Stiles seemed fine and dating that Jane girl.  Things shouldn’t get awkward.

“So, is Jane coming to any of the shows?”

Stiles looked down at her with confusion coloring his features, “Jane?  Jane Levy?  I don’t know. Why?”

She backpedaled, “Oh.  I just thought, there was an article that said that you two…”

Stiles grinned and squeezed her shoulder, “Don’t believe everything you read.  Jane had a movie coming out and the single had just dropped.  Our publicists wanted us to be seen together a couple of times.  I’m about to tour across country, you better believe I’m a single pringle.”

Oh…

He tossed his overnight bag over his shoulder and walked past her to where Matty was exiting his bus, “Hey man!”

The singer grinned and took Stiles’ hand, slapping him on the back and then pulling back, “What a place to kick off the tour.  Just make sure you don’t outshine me tonight.  Can’t have that.”

Stiles laughed, “I can try my best, but the ladies… they can’t resist my charm.”

Matty rolled his eyes with a smile his on his face, “I guess we’ll see.”

They walked towards the arena, the rest of the group following their lead.  He glanced back over his shoulder and made eye contact with Lydia for a moment before turning back ahead and answered more to himself than the singer, “I guess we will.”

 

 

 

Lydia held her breath as the show began.  She had done everything in her power to avoid listening to his album.  She was out of time to procrastinate, and honestly, she really didn’t want to anymore.  She wanted to hear what he really felt, because he obviously wasn’t saying it.  He’d told her he wanted to forget they were anything and go back to being friends.  That’s what he wanted.  The problem with that was that for as much as she needed that to be the case, every fiber of her being screamed against the idea.

As she sat in the VIP section with the gang, tapping her foot to Shadow Preachers, the song they’d already played at their album release, she couldn’t help but feel like things were about to head south for her, emotional wise.

Luckily, Matty had already headed backstage to warm up and spend some time with his bandmates.

Her attention focused in on Stiles as he pulled his shirt off and used it to wipe his face before letting it hang on his shoulder.  Damn him.

“This is the biggest venue we’ve ever played.  Is Las Vegas ready to rock tonight!?”

The crowd went wild and she felt herself clapping along with the rest of them.

Scott started his beat and the fans screamed, obviously knowing what the song was.  It made her wish she was more prepared for this.

  
**She planned ahead for a year, he said, "Let's play it by ear."**  
 **She didn't want him to run, he didn't want her to fear**  
 **Nobody said it'd be easy, they knew it was rough**  
 **But, tough luck**  
  
**I fell in love today,**  
 **There aren't any words that you can say**  
 **That could ever get my mind to change**  
 **She's enough for me, she's in love with me**  
  
**You're a doll, you are flawless**  
 **But I just can't wait for love to destroy us**  
 **I just can't wait for love**  
 **The only flaw – you are flawless**  
 **But I just can't wait for love to destroy us**  
 **I just can't wait for love**  
  
**So, she put his heart in a bag, he wouldn't ask for it back**  
 **He didn't want her to cry, she didn't want to be sad**  
 **He said, "You better not leave me."**  
 **This shit'll be fucked for days and weeks and months, but...**  
  
**I fell in love today,**  
 **There aren't any words that you can say**  
 **That could ever get my mind to change**  
 **She's enough for me, she's in love with me**

**You're a doll, you are flawless**  
 **But I just can't wait for love to destroy us**  
 **I just can't wait for love**  
 **The only flaw – you are flawless**  
 **But I just can't wait for love to destroy us**  
 **I just can't wait for love**  
  
**Add it all up, I can find it**  
 **The problem with love is I'm blinded by**  
 **It rattles my lungs, but my mind is**  
 **Tangled between your little flaws**  
 **Your flaws, your flaws, your flaws**  
  
**You're a doll, you are flawless**  
 **But I just can't wait for love to destroy us**  
 **I just can't wait for love**  
 **The only flaw – you are flawless**  
 **But I just can't wait for love to destroy us**  
 **I just can't wait for love**  
  
**Wait for love, I won't wait for love**  
 **Wait for love, I won't wait for love**  
 **Wait for love**

The rest of their set wasn’t any easier…

 

Kira nudged her after they played _Bleed_ , “You okay?  You don’t look so good.”

Lydia took another sip of her cranberry and vodka and shrugged.

“I mean, you’ve heard them all.  Is it just different live or something?”

Lydia glanced over to her friend, “I haven’t listened to the album.”

Kira’s eyes widened, “Oh… I’ll get you another drink.”

 

“This is the last song of the night before we hand it over to the reason you’re all here!  Thank you guys for a great kick off!!  This is one of my favorites off the album.  Hope you enjoy.”

**This ain't right...this ain't right...this ain't right**  
 **This ain't right...this ain't right...this ain't right**  
  
**So lay your hand in mine**  
 **And pull me back inside**  
 **Show me how, in love, your heart ceases to fight.**  
  
**Tear my skin, get in**  
 **Give everything again**  
 **and then I'll wait...and I'll wait.**  
  
**Cause I still love you, you still love me**  
 **and that ain't my imagination, that ain't my imagination.**  
 **I still love you, you still love me**  
 **and that ain't my imagination, that ain't my imagination...dear...mm hmm.**  
  
**Show your teeth, and feast,**  
 **You fucked up masterpiece.**  
 **Take me down, again**  
 **Crawl inside my skin**  
 **Wrap my heart, in wire**  
 **Fill it with desire**  
 **and then...go...then go.**  
  
**Cause this ain't right...this ain't right...this ain't right**  
 **Cause this ain't right...this ain't right...this ain't right**  
 **Cause I still love you, you still love me**  
  
**and that ain't my imagination, that ain't my imagination**  
 **I still love you...you still love me**  
 **and that ain't my imagination, that ain't my imagination...dear..mmm...hmm.**  
  
**Oh when age sets in**  
 **and wrinkles your skin**  
 **and snatches the light from your eyes.**  
 **When your time has come**  
 **and all is said and done**  
 **Will the work of your hands be enough...will it be enough?**  
  
**Cause I still love you, you still love me**  
 **and that ain't my imagination, that ain't my imagination**  
  
**I still love you, you still love me**  
 **and that ain't my imagination, that ain't my imagination**  
  
**I still love you, you still love me**  
 **and that ain't my imagination, that ain't my imagination**  
 **I still love you, you still love me**  
 **and that ain't my imagination, that ain't my imagination**  
 **that ain't my imagination, that ain't my imagination...dear**  
  
**No...ooohhh...No...oooh...No...ohhh...No...oooh...Nooo.**

 

“What is this?” Lydia eyed the drink Kira handed to her.

Kira shrugged, “I left out the cranberry.”

Nodding, she threw it back, “I’m going to have to listen to these for the next two months.”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

 

 

Stiles ran up the stairs two at a time, grinning from ear to ear.  Once he and Scott were in the room everyone stood and embraced them, patting them on the backs and handing them drinks.

Stiles never imagined playing to so many people and he was high from the adrenaline.  Until he looked at Lydia, who was watching Matty play.  She didn’t move towards them when they came up.

His eyebrows creased with concern and he sat his drink down and moved passed the people surrounding him towards her.  He could tell something was wrong by the tense way she held her shoulders back, “Hey, Lyds.  You okay?”

She let her eyes rest on him as he sat down beside her before turning back to the crowd, “Yeah, fine.  Just enjoying the show.  You guys did well.”

“Why do I feel like that’s not what you want to say to me at all?”

She rolled her eyes, “Because we know each other too well.  You know that I want to say that it’s bullshit that you get to air our dirty laundry for the world and me to hear with no way of me giving my side.”

He rubbed his hands together, “You gave your side pretty clearly to that reporter a few months ago.”

She sighed, “Yeah, I did.  Felt good.”

Stiles looked out over the crowd, “Imagine screaming it to an arena full of people.”

She nudged him with her elbow, “I’m not saying I don’t get it, I’m just saying it sucks, knowing I’m the reason for the songs.”

He scratched his chin and nodded, “Okay yeah, you could think of it like that.  Or, you could think of it like you’re the reason Scott and I get to ride in Range Rovers and hang out with famous people.  There’s that.”

She shook her head lightheartedly, “It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.  I mean, come on, two years ago we defeated things called Dread Doctors.  We have literally be closer to death more times than a blindfolded parachuting bomb inspector who likes to wrestle alligators on the weekends.  And now we’re hanging out with actual rockstars.  Hell, you’re dating one.  Let’s not focus on the shitstorm we created that got us here, okay?  Let’s just enjoy the ride now that we are.”

She turned her head to inspect him for a moment, awed by how much he seemed to have grown since high school.  The Stiles she knew would have at least thrown in one sarcastic remark about Matty.  Something that let her know what he was actually thinking.  But not this guy.  This guy put aside whatever he was feeling to make sure she was comfortable.  She kind of hated him for it.

He continued, “If you want to wait and get here after we go on from now on, I get it.  I wouldn’t want to sit and listen to shitty break up songs about myself every night.”

She reached over and squeezed his forearm, “I wouldn’t miss your show for the world.  Maybe I don’t love the songs, but I love the boys up there.”

He placed his hand of the one resting on his arm and patted it, taken back by her words.  Maybe she never loved him, not the way he wished she had, but she did love him.

And that had to be enough.


	10. Spiraled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter. 
> 
> That is all.

Three weeks had gone by surprisingly smooth for Lydia and Stiles.  They avoided the topic of their previous relationship like the plague and just genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.  Stiles and Matty got along, which selfishly Lydia kind of didn’t like.  It wasn’t that she didn’t like it.  It was more that she dealt with things in absolutes.  She was science minded.  She liked answers and information.  With Stiles, it was as if he was one large question mark.  Why was he being so nice to her?  Why did he spend all of high school telling anyone who’d listen how important she was to him and then just decide he was cool with forgetting they’d happened?  Why was he not remotely jealous?  Why didn’t he love her?

The last question that popped into her head, she pushed out forcefully.  She liked Matty.  She honestly did.  He was sweet and sure, he was a little moody and broody, but she’d expected as much.  He treated her well and she had fun with him.  He deserved to be given a legitimate chance and that’s what she was doing.

Stiles clearly wanted to get on with his life post-her.  She told herself that’s what she wanted as well.

 

Climbing out of bed, she tucked in a loose grey v-neck into a flowy leather skirt and grabbed her white bag as quietly as she could.

“Mmmmm.  What’re you doing?”  Matty mumbled from the bed.

She winced, “Sorry.  Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.  You got in so late.  I was going to go grab us some food and bring it back.”

She watched as he shook his head into the pillows, “Don’t want food.  Just sleep.”

She rolled her eyes.  It wasn’t her fault he was so hungover.  She was hungry, “Okay, well then I’ll go see if some of my friends want to grab breakfast or something.  I’ll leave you to it.”

He gave her a thumbs up, “Have fun, babe.”

 

 

Once she realized that Malia, Isaac, Hayden, and Liam’s room was empty, she headed to Stiles, Kira, and Scott’s, hoping they’d all be hanging out there.

Lydia knocked on their hotel door at the same time a petite brunette opened it.

“Oh sorry!” The girl exclaimed, “I was just… leaving.”

Lydia watched the girl as she made her way down the hall corridor pulling a full blown walk of shame, including the heels in her hands look.

Stiles cleared his throat, causing Lydia to jump and turn back towards him.

“Morning sunshine.” He said, his voice still husky from sleep.

She raised her eyebrow and looked down the corridor, “Who’s your friend?”

Stiles put both hands on the top of the door frame, stretching, and shrugged, “I didn’t catch her name.”

Her eyes trailed from his flexed arms down his chest before realizing they were having a conversation, “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“No, but it felt like one last night.  Actually, it felt like three, but I’m not one to brag.”

Lydia held her hands up, “I don’t want to hear about your sexcapades.”

He shrugged again.  When his shoulders went up, it exposed the tattoo she had noticed at their album release party.  Before she thought better of it, she reached forward and pulled up his shirt some to get a better look.

He stepped back playfully, “Maybe you do want to hear about them.”

She ignored that and followed him into his room, “What is that tattoo?”

She watched as his lifted his shirt some.  It wasn’t a hip tattoo, it was on his abdomen, to the right, “A ball of yarn.”

She tilted her head in confusion, “Why do you have a ball of yarn tattooed on your stomach?”

He mimicked her voice and then his answer, “What does red mean? Unsolved.”

She smiled and responded, “You only have red on the board.”

“Yes, I’m aware, thank you.” He said in the same tone he had that night in his bedroom.

She laughed and looked at it again, “That’s a lot of red yarn.”

He shrugged and dropped his shirt, “There’s a lot in my life that’s unsolved.”

They stood there for a moment just looking at each other before he cleared his throat, “Was there a reason you stopped by or did you just miss my stunning face?”

She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm, “I wanted to see if you and Scott and the others wanted to get breakfast, maybe see the town a little while we’re here.”

“Where’s Matty?”

If he meant anything deeper by the question, it didn’t show.  She responded, “Matthew drank too much last night and has opted to stay in bed.”

Stiles smiled and nodded, “I feel that.  I’m surprisingly not as hungover as I figured I would be this morning.  But, Scott left a bit ago to spend some one on one time with Kira.  And the others got up early for a jog.  A group of were-beings cooped up for too long does not a happy bus load make.”

She stepped back toward his door, “Okay well, I guess I can--”

“I’ll go with you.  I’m hungry.” he smiled and shoved his feet into some converse.

“Oh.  Yeah, okay.  You sure?”

He looked up at her and shrugged, “Of course.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Okay, let’s go.”  She said and she turned toward the door, feeling somewhere between excited to spend a whole day with Stiles and terrified to spend a whole day with Stiles.

 

 

 

Spiraled was the word Lydia chose to use when describing how she felt about the day she spent in the city with Stiles.  They were in Portland and surprisingly, it wasn’t raining. 

They started the day off at IHOP, where Stiles ate an obscene amount of pancakes.

“How is your stomach even remotely large enough to eat that much food?” She eyed his plate in disbelief.

He shrugged, stuffing his mouth with half a pancake, “It’s the International House of Pancakes, Lydia.  Am I not supposed to eat them?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically, “Yes.  Maybe not eat all of the ones they have.”

He gestured to her plate, “I’m not eating yours.”

“You’re so gracious.”

He grinned with a mouth full of food, causing her to laugh.

They ate in comfortable silence after that.  Lydia looked up, noticing Stiles making faces over her head. “What the hell are you doing?”

He smiled and looked back at her, “Just having some fun with the paparazzi.  They haven’t started annoying me yet.  It’s still kind of fun.”

She looked over her shoulder and then quickly turned back to him, “God, I would die if they followed me around all day.”

“Get used to it.  You keep seeing your British beau and it’ll become the norm.  Ten bucks you won’t make a crazy face to them.  Lydia Martin wouldn’t dare not look her best in public.”

She watched him smirking at her and she narrowed her eyes, “You have little faith.”

With that she picked up a pancake that she hadn’t eaten yet and bit three holes in it before putting it up to her face and turning around in her chair to face the window they were standing outside.

Stiles threw his head back in laughter, “Okay, never mind!  You win!”

He grabbed her other one because his were soaked in syrup and did the same.  They laughed as the photographers snapped their shots and then dropped the cakes back on the table.  Stiles wiped his eye where tears were forming from laughter, “Oh my god.  I can’t wait to see those.”

She pulled out her compact, touching up her lipstick, “Yes, I enjoyed that.”

He stood up and tossed a couple of bills on the table and nodded towards the door, holding out his hand, “Come on, Lyds.  I have somewhere I want to show you.”

She eyed him for a second.  She swore there was a neon sign flashing above his head that screamed, “Danger.”

She took his hand.

 

 

“Stiles.”  She paused, mesmerized, “All of the books.  Look at all the books.”

He grinned, standing behind her.  He put both hands on her shoulders and lightly shook her, “There are a lot of great places in Portland, but none with this many books on mathematical theorems.”

He walked around her and towards the stacks, looking back to wink at her.

Damn him.  And his winking.  And his face.  And his fucking memory.  Who else would think to take her to a damn bookstore of all places, knowing it’d be better than any place else she could think to visit?  No one.

She huffed at her own thoughts and followed him around the corner, expecting him to be in the stacks.

He wasn’t.

“Stiles?”  She called quietly.  Walking down the row and turned the corner to find him lifting a small child above his head so that she could reach a book on the top shelf.

“Got it?” He questioned to the girl.

“Yep!  Thank you!”

He grinned and sat her back down, giving her a high five, “That was my favorite book when I was your age too!”

“Really?”  She smiled up at him.

“Oh yeah!  Good pick.”

She plopped down and opened it and Stiles took that as his cue that the conversation was over.  He looked over to see Lydia leaning against the stacks, smirking at him.

“What?”  He asked as a blush started creeping up his neck.

“You keep doing things like that and you’ll ruin your rocker cred.”

He rolled his eyes and they walked down another row, looking at different genres, “You and I both know that the rocker cred I have is nothing but a front.  I’m the lamest guy in existence.”

She didn’t look over at him, but she answered, “I happen to think otherwise.  And we both know I’m smarter than you.”

He paused for a second, noticing the irony of the fact that they were in the supernatural section, “You aren’t always smart.  And you aren’t always right.”

Her breath hitched, thinking about that night in her room when he explained his tattoo.  With her back still turned to him, she surprised herself with her answer, “I know I’m not.”

They stood there with their backs to each other for far longer than they needed to.

It was Lydia who turned around first, “Stiles, I--”

“Look.”  He said as he turned towards her with a smile on his face, “A bestiary like the one Allison had.”

Whatever she was going to say died on her lips.  She could see it all over his face that he didn’t want to hear it.

“You mean the one all you idiots confused with the term bestiality?”

Stiles laughed, “Oh, simpler times.”  He shoved it back on the shelf and took her hand, leading her up the stairs.

“How do you know about Portland, by the way?”  She asked, following him and adamantly repeating to herself that his hands were just a strikingly different temperature than hers and that’s why it felt like a shock to be holding them.

He shrugged, “It’s just like a two hour flight from Berkeley.  When I started writing music, I ended up here a couple weekends a month, meeting people and playing small shows with Scott.”

“I wish I knew you loved music before I found out via radio.”

She felt his hand tighten for a moment before loosening his hold again, “We were busy.”

Her forehead wrinkled in frustration, “You were never too busy to notice my hobbies.”

He turned towards her, “You noticed the important things.  Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

She scoffed, “That’s rude.”

He shook his head, “I don’t mean it in a rude way.  I mean, sure, maybe you didn’t know I could sing or play the guitar.  But you knew things that mattered.  You could feel when I was being taken over by an evil spirit.  Important.  You could tell I wasn’t okay the day my dad went missing and helped me stop a panic attack.  Important.  You noticed the flame rolling towards the gasoline at that creepy motel and saved me and Scott.  Important.  You could tell when my shoulder hurt from Donovan’s bite by the slightest facial impression.  Lydia, don’t act like you should’ve paid more attention.  You cared as much as me, you just showed it differently.”

She looked at him for a second, waiting for her pounding heartbeat to return to a normal range before responding, “Where’s your songs about that?”

He laughed and turned to continue towards his destination, “Those songs don’t sell, darling.  Sorry.  No one wants to hear “You were great, I was great.  We broke up and now we’re good.”

She huffed, “I’d buy it.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, “Shut up and look.”

Having pulled her into the room he’d gone in, her eyes filled with wonder, “Math books.  Math books everywhere.”

He laughed and plopped down on a beanie bag sitting by the door, “Eat your heart out, Martin.  I’ll be playing candy crush until you’re done.”

She looked down at him and smiled, “You’re maybe not the worst.”

“I get that a lot.”

 

 

Three hours later they found themselves walking down a vibrant looking street.  The buildings were painted different colors and the shops themselves were all unique and inviting.

“You know, if you like this, you’d probably actually not hate New York if you gave it a chance.”  She spoke.

He glanced at her and looked around, “I like New York.”

“Excuse me?”

He shrugged, “What?  I’m not allowed to change my mind?”

She smiled and nudged him with her shoulder, “You’re allowed to, I’ve just never witnessed it happen before.”

“I’m am extremely flexible and open-minded about people, places, and things.  Thank you very much.”

“HA.  Okay.”  She countered.

He stopped and put both hands on his hips, “I could totally live in New York.”

She mirrored his stance, looking back at him, “I never said you couldn’t, I just said that you wouldn’t.”

They stood there with their eyes narrowed at each other, “I might.”

“You won’t.”

He rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and continued to walk down the sidewalk, “Just because of that, I’m telling Scott today that we’re packing our things the second we get home and heading for the Big Apple.”

They kept walking, the shops beginning to turn into apartment buildings.  She laughed, “You’d move across the country just to spite me?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Lydia tilted her head, as if to let him know she didn’t believe him without having to say anything.  She had to admit, though, the sound of Scott and Stiles being a few minutes away again instead of across the country filled her with a warmth she’d been missing for some time.

“Give me that look all you want, Martin.  You’re gonna eat your words when we move in next door.”

She laughed and would’ve argued her position further but instead looked up as she felt a drop of rain hit her collar bone.

“Crap.”

They didn’t have any time to react before the skies opened up and began drenching them.

“Oh my god!”  Stiles grabbed her hand as they ran down the sidewalk towards the awning not too far from them.

Stiles pulled her up next to him as they squeezed under the small cover over a random front door.  He looked down to find her laughing.  He began as well.

“Ooh girl, you did not wear water proof mascara.”  He said, causing her to laugh harder.  He placed his hands on the sides of her face and used his thumbs to wipe the makeup from under her eyes, still laughing himself.

They stood there as the laughter died down, Stiles still holding her head in his hands, not breaking eye contact.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

She breathed, “What are we doing?”

He bit his lip for a moment as if internally debating what to do.  He took a short breath and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before dropping his hands, “We’re waiting out the rain, obviously.”

She inhaled deeply as whatever moment that had been passed and turned to look out at the soaked road, “Better call your driver.”

“Good idea.”

She nodded, “Yeah.”

 

They stood there quietly until a car pulled up and they ran to meet it.  Once they were in the back, Stiles shook his hair out, causing pelts of water to hit her.

“Excuse you!  Last time I checked, Scott was the dog!”  She exclaimed.

He reached over, feeling brave, and interlaced his fingers in hers before winking.

“You are so exasperating.”  She muttered, though she didn’t pull her hand away.  She added, “And don’t wink at me.”

He smirked, looking out the window, “Maybe I just only blink with one eye sometimes.”

She laid her head back and sighed, “God, sober you is as dumb as drunk you.”

He didn’t answer her, he just squeezed her fingers gently and looked out the window.

 

Lydia sat in the back of a car, in the middle of Oregon, soaking wet, with the boy who’d spent half his life declaring his love for her, replaying every wrong turn they’d taken that led them here.  The car ride wasn’t long enough.

Spiraled, she thought, was exactly the word she’d use to describe how she felt about Stiles.


	11. I Hate To Think About You With Somebody Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in this chapter. I was going to break it in two, but it flows better as one longer one.
> 
> Enjoy! (hopefully)
> 
> Somebody Else - The 1975 is referenced in this chapter.

Two weeks later:

 

Stiles was sitting in his bus with Scott, debating over what to do with Lydia, who was conveniently passed out on their couch after passing a bottle of whiskey around, reminiscing over the last few years for the past three hours. After their show, the three of them decided to skip the headlining act and head back to the bus to spend some quality time together.

 

“We could leave her in here with us while we head to the next show?”  Scott offered, "I didn't realize how much of the bottle she was responsible for finishing off..."

Stiles shook his head, “Nah.  The others will be in here.  It’s crowded as it is and she’s going to have a killer headache.”

“Okay, well we could try to wake her up or go get Matty?”

Stiles looked down at his watch, “The buses pull out in like thirty minutes.  I’ll just..”

Instead of finishing his sentence, he bent down and picked her up bridal style, “Open the door.”

“You’re gonna carry her across a parking lot the size of two football fields?”  Scott questioned, knowing that Matty’s bus was parked next to the entrance while they were loading their gear.

Stiles shrugged, “She’s lights out, man.  There’s no waking her up and Matty is probably still getting things loaded up.  I got it.”

“You realize I'm the one with werewolf strength, right?”

Stiles looked down to the sleeping girl in his arms and repeated, “I got it.”

Scott smirked, looking down as he opened the door.

.

.

.

.

.

 

Matty heard a knock on his door.  He just sat down after loading the last of their equipment up, “Yeah come in!”  He called out.

“I’m gonna need you to grab the door.”  He heard Stiles call/slur from the other side.

Curious, Matty rose and opened the door.  An amused smile broke out on his face, “Did you drug my girlfriend?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Move it, English.”

Matty stepped back, letting Stiles climb the stairs, sideways to avoid hitting Lydia against anything.

“Back in the bedroom?” Stiles questioned.

Matty nodded, “Yeah.  How much did she drink?  Jesus, she’s unconscious.”

Stiles laid her down gently and grabbed the blanket off the foot of the bed, covering her, “I’m probably not too far behind her.”

Matty looked at him, “Yeah you’re eyes are a bit glassy there, mate.”

Stiles rubbed them, “Got to talking about Allison.  Usually leads to lots of alcohol.”

“Allison?”

“Yeah, y'know, her best friend that died a couple of years ago.  Scott’s ex.”  Noticing the absence of recognition on his face, Stiles continued, “I guess she hasn’t mentioned her yet.”

Matty crossed his arms and leaned against the bedroom door frame, looking down at Lydia, “Well that explains a lot.”

“What?”

He shrugged, “She talks in her sleep a lot.  I hear the name Allison almost every night.  Never knew who she was, but I didn't want to pry.  Heard Scott’s too.  Yours especially.”

Stiles looked down at his shoes and let the alcohol do the talking for him, “We had a tough time in high school.  Lydia probably the worst of us all, not that she’d feel that way.  She was... stronger than everyone else. Refused to be defeated.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Stiles moved around him, patting his shoulder, “Cause she’s dark.  She’s scarred.  But God, she’s worth it.  You just got to be patient with her.  She scares easier than a fucking deer.  Trust me, I know.  But, she’ll let you in when she’s ready.  So, don’t mention that I told you any of that and one day you’ll hear it from her, alright?”

Matty put an arm around his neck, walking him towards the door, “Alright, buddy.  Go get some rest alright.  Buses leave in ten.”

Stiles nodded, exiting his bus with a yawn and a bit of blurry vision, hoping he’d remembered what he said in the morning.  He probably wouldn’t.

 

Matty shook his head, watching his friend make his way across the parking lot.  He knew there were still feelings there for Stiles.  He could hear it in his voice every time he sang.  He’d just tried to avoid thinking about it.  It made it easier to sleep next to her every night.  He was beginning to think that his time of ignoring problems until they disappeared was coming to an end.

 

 

 

A few days later, Stiles found himself sitting with Matty on his tour bus in Nashville, strumming along to one of his songs.  Matty stopped playing, “Oh, you know what, why don’t I do the first verse and chorus and then you come on the second and the chorus and we both do the bridge and finish it out.”

“Oh yeah, I like that.  I hope the crowd’s cool with me playing part of your song.”

Matty smiled, “They’ll probably ask you to sing the whole thing from now on.”

“Oh, whatever.”

“I think the fans are going to go mental hearing you sing this song in particular.”

Stiles looked over the lyrics again and laughed softly, “Yeah.  We aren’t really doing much to put the rumors down doing this.”

Matty shrugged, “There were starting to go away before the pancake photos back in Portland which, by the way, were hilarious.  Now I figure, why not add a little fuel?  Wouldn’t hurt ticket sales going into the final week.”

Stiles nodded, “I mean, I totally get it.  It’s just, Lydia’s going to be pissed.”

“Why do you say that?” He questioned.

Stiles shook his head, “Oh you innocent flower, don’t let the heels fool you, Lydia doesn’t like surprises.  She doesn’t like a spot light.  And she doesn’t like idle gossip.  Underneath the clothes and the makeup, there will be a very small, very angry strawberry blonde coming right at you after this.”

Matty paused for a moment before asking what had been on his mind for a while, “Do you still love her?”

Stiles inhaled sharply, surprised by the question, “Where did that come from?”

Matty shrugged as an answer.

He looked at his friend, yeah, he’d call him a friend.  And you were honest with friends, “Yeah, I do.”

Matty nodded, “Thought so.”

Stiles added, “But I just… I want her to be happy.  She’s happy with you.  I’ve spent most of our lives being her friend, I’m good at it.”

The rocker patted Stiles on the shoulder before standing up and pulling a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, “Girls, man.”

Stiles couldn’t help but smile as he took a swig from the bottle, “They’re just girls, breaking hearts.”

Matty laughed, “The words from my mouth.”

 

 

Lydia watched nervously as her boys took the stage.  Scott, Stiles, and Matty.  She knew Matty was going to play one of his songs with them, but she didn’t ask which one.  She probably should’ve asked which one.

“Nashville!  I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I’d play one of the new songs off the album with these guys tonight.”  The crowd erupted and he added, “I thought you’d say that.”

Nodding at Scott, the music began and Matty took the beginning,

**So I heard you found somebody else**  
 **And at first I thought it was a lie**  
 **I took all my things that make sounds**  
 **The rest I can do without**  
  
**I don't want your body**  
 **But I hate to think about you with somebody else**  
 **Our love has gone cold**  
 **You're intertwining your soul with somebody else**  
  
**I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone**  
 **And then leaving with somebody else**  
 **Oh, I don't want your body**  
 **But I'm picturing your body with somebody else**  


Stiles stepped up to the mic and the crowd roared.

  
**Come on baby**  
 **This ain't the last time that I'll see your face**  
 **Come on baby**  
 **You said you'd find someone to take my place**  
  
**Oh I just don't believe that you have got it in you cause**  
 **We are just gonna keep 'doin' it' and every time**  
 **I start to believe in anything you're saying**  
 **I'm reminded that I should be getting over it**  
  
**I don't want your body**  
 **But I hate to think about you with somebody else**  
 **Our love has gone cold**  
 **You're intertwining your soul with somebody else**  
  
**I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone**  
 **And then leaving with somebody else**  
 **No, I don't want your body**  
 **But I'm picturing your body with somebody else**  
  
**Get someone you love?**  
 **Get someone you need?**  
 **Fuck that**  
 **Get Money**  
 **I can't give you my soul**  
 **Cause we're never alone**  
 **_[x4]_**

  
**(Matty)**   
**I don't want your body**   
**But I hate to think about you with somebody else**

**(Stiles)**  
 **Our love has gone cold**  
 **You're intertwining your soul with somebody else**  


**(Matty)**   
**I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone**   
**And then leaving with somebody else**

**(Stiles)**   
**Oh, I don't want your body**   
**But I'm picturing your body with somebody else**

 

 

“Those assholes.”  Lydia spat, standing up to the railing to get a better look at their smug faces. 

Malia, Hayden, and Kira stood beside her.  Malia spoke first, “I thought it was good.”

Hayden waved her hand dismissively, “You think every song is good.”

“My love life is not some prop used to get their tour in the news segments.”  Lydia said.

Kira shrugged, trying to downplay the issue, “You gotta admit, it was kind of genius.  Play the song that makes everyone remember just how fucked up this whole tour is.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “It’s not that fucked up.”

Malia responded, “Well, you’re on tour with your boyfriend whose opening act is a band whose lead singer is your ex-boyfriend who wrote their entire album about his undying love and hate for you.  Did I miss anything?”

Isaac called from across the room, “That he sings every night as she looks on.”

“Thanks babe!”

Lydia huffed in exasperation, “Either join the conversation or turn off your wolf ears.”

 

She turned back towards the stage, watching The 1975 kick off their set and Scott and Stiles going backstage.  Clenching her fists, she turned towards the door.

“Where are you going?”  Kira called out.

“Just need to chat with a friend.”  She returned, not looking back.

 

The rest of them stood there, watching her go.  Liam joined in, having been listening the whole time, “When do you think they’re going to give up the whole we’re friends thing.  You can either be in love with someone or be their friend.  But you can’t be both.  They just haven’t realized that yet.”

They all turned to him and Hayden spoke, “Babe, that was deep.”

He grinned, “Vampire Diaries.”

They all rolled their eyes and turned back to the stage.

“What?”  He questioned, confused.

 

 

 

Stiles knew she was behind him before he turned around, judging by the scared faces looking past him.

“She’s behind me isn’t she?”

Scott nodded, backing away slowly, “I’m gonna… I have to… not be here.”

Stiles’ eyes widened, silently begging his friend not to go.  He didn’t listen.  Slowly he turned around, “Hey, Lyds.  You look lovely tonight.  New dress?  Something different with you hair maybe?”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

He nodded, crossing his arms.

Her posture mimicked his, “Why did you think that was a good idea?”

He shrugged, “Did it not sound good?”

She threw her hands up with an eye roll, “It’s not about how it sounded!  It’s about me being tired of being the center of this fucked up love triangle the media thinks is going on here and you two not doing anything but adding fuel to the fire!  It’s bad enough every time I step out of a freaking building I’m hounded about it, now you go and do this!”

He let his head lull back like he was bored of the conversation, “How about you stop yelling at me.”

“How about you stop doing shitty things that make me want to yell at you!  You knew this would piss me off.  God, you’re infuriating!” She countered.

He grabbed the leather jacket that was sitting on his guitar case and moved around her, “Well I’ll get out of your hair since I’m so infuriating to be around.”

“Stiles, I’m not done with--”

He spun around, overtaken by how angry he felt towards her and how quickly the switch flipped from ignoring his problems to wanting to scream them at her, “Not done with what?  Yelling at me?  Blaming me for something that wasn’t all me?  You’re standing here, fuming at me for something that Matty, Scott, and I all agreed would be good for the momentum of the tour going into its final week.  I brought up the fact that you’d be mad and you know what, they still wanted to do it!  So why don’t you get out of my fucking face about it!”

She was taken aback by his tone towards her.  They’ve fought plenty of times.  There’s always been an underlying tone of affection, even if he was outraged.  All she felt right then was the outrage.

He added, “If you have a problem, go yell at your boyfriend.”

There it was.  She inhaled sharply.  The elephant in the room they never brought up.  Ever.

He continued, “You didn’t go off on Scott, so stop acting like you have the right to treat me any differently than him, because, in case you were confused, you don’t.”

With that he stormed off, leaving her standing back stage, blindsided by the shift that the conversation had taken.

 

 

 

He hadn’t meant to yell at her like that.  He breathed heavily as he walked towards his dressing room.  Once inside he slammed the door behind him and proceeded to flip the coffee table.

“That make you feel better?”

He looked up, surprised to see Scott sitting quietly in a chair in the corner of his room.

“Shit.  I didn’t know you were in here.”

Scott stood up and walked over to his friend, not saying anything but pulling him into a hug.

Stiles wasn’t sure what he was doing at first but then sunk into the hug, burying his face in his friend’s shoulder.

“It’s too much isn’t it?”  Scott questioned, feeling tears seep through his shirt.

Stiles pulled back, wiping his face with his hands, “I can’t keep doing this.”  He took a shaky breath, “I can’t keep watching them together, holding hands, laughing.  I just… I’m trying so hard to be the friend I used to be to her, watching her date whoever she felt like.  Aiden, Parrish.  Whatever.  I was happy just being an important person in her life.”

Scott interrupted, “You don’t think you can go back to that?”

Stiles shook his head, “I know I can’t.  It’s got to be all or nothing.  I can’t be her friend anymore, Scott.  It's driving me crazy.”

“What are you going to do?”

Stiles wiped his nose again before leaning down and turning the coffee table back upright, “I’m going to be nothing.  She knows how I feel about her.  I sing it every fucking night.  I’m going to finish out this tour, get on the bus, and go home.  She also knows where I live.  I can’t do the waiting in the wings for her anymore.  I thought I could, but I can’t.”

Scott watched his friend become winded talking about the girl he was walking away from.  Scott put a hand on his shoulder, “Breathe, buddy.  That’s okay.  It’s okay.  You gotta put you first.  If it’s too much, it’s too much.”

Stiles nodded, sinking down to the couch.  Scott sat beside him, “I know she was mad behind stage, but what happened that triggered this?  I thought you were handling it okay?”

Stiles sighed, “I don’t know.  I thought I was too.  We really do get along usually.  She got so pissed at me over that fucking song and I don’t know, I snapped.  She can’t yell at me like I’m more than a friend and then go and be with him.  I don’t know what’s going on in her head, but I can’t keep sitting around trying to figure it out.”

Scott nodded, “Yeah.  That’s how I felt about Allison after we broke up honestly.  We weren’t together, but she still looked at me sometimes like, I don’t know, like she’d made a mistake she didn’t know how to fix.  But she was with Isaac and I’d started seeing Kira.  I just wanted to know what she was thinking, where her heart was.  It was confusing to say the least.”

“Do you ever think you guys would’ve ended up back together if…?”

Scott shrugged, “I love Kira. I really, truly do.  But honestly, if Allison were still alive, I think I would’ve always held out hope that one day we’d get it right.”

“I don’t think I can keep hoping.”

“Stiles, she’s Lydia.  Sure, she’s with someone else.  But that’s never stopped you from loving her.”

Stiles shook his head, “I never said I can’t keep loving her.  I just can’t keeping hoping that loving her enough will somehow make everything work out in the end.  It’s not realistic.”

Scott nodded and they sat there quietly for a while before he broke the silence, “What are you going to do tonight?”

Stiles stood up and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from his bag, “Tonight I’m going to get drunk.  Tomorrow I’m going to get up early and rent a car and drive myself to the next show, where I will use the hours to decide what happens next.”

“I like the sound of your plan.  There are three slight changes I would make.”

“Oh yeah?”

Scott grinned, “Yeah.  One, it’s tonight, _we_ get drunk. And then tomorrow, _we_ get up early, rent a _Jeep_ , and drive to the next show.”

Stiles nodded, smiling, “I approve of those changes.”

 

 

 

Lydia woke up the next morning, resolved to make things right with Stiles.  She hadn’t meant to upset him so much last night.  Sure, she had been pissed, but she hadn’t really thought about what she was doing as she was doing it.  It bothered her to no ends that she knew he was right.  She had no grounds for being as mad at him as she was.  She should’ve had that conversation with Matty.

The problem was just that she felt like Stiles should’ve known better.  He knows her better than anyone in the world, he should’ve known it would’ve upset her.  Still, not his problem.  And she needed to apologize.

 

She knocked on their hotel door and Kira opened it, rubbing her eyes, “Yes?”

“Morning.  Is Stiles up yet?”  She asked, peering over Kira’s shoulder into the common area of their room.

Kira crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, “You just missed them actually.”

Lydia’s forehead creased, “Where did they go?”

“They left for New York already.”

“What?”  Lydia questioned, intent on keeping her surprise buried beneath the surface.

“Yeah, Stiles wanted to clear his head, but he can’t really do that without Scott, so they rented a jeep and headed out.”

Lydia shifted her weight and crossed her arms, “Um, why did he need to clear his head?”

Kira rolled her eyes, tilting her head towards her friend, “Do I really need to answer that?” When Lydia didn’t respond Kira sighed and spoke, “I’m only telling you this because someone needs to and Stiles won’t.”

“Stiles won’t what? Tell me what?”

“He acts like he’s fine being your friend, but it’s killing him.  Every time he sees you with Matty… Look, I get that it’s not fair to blame you for that, for being in a relationship.  I’m just saying it’s tearing him up.  Just imagine if the shoe was on the other foot.”

Lydia thought about what she’d do if she had to sit and watch Stiles be happy with someone else while she was miserable without him.  It made her sick to her stomach, “I didn’t… I thought… he said he wanted to forget we ever happened.”

“When did he say that?”

“Back at the album release party.  I asked him if that was what he really wanted and he said yes with no hesitation.  I just… why not give it a real shot with Matty after that.  Stiles was wanting to move on.  I was still relatively pissed at him for sleeping with me and then bailing.  I didn’t know… God, all this time, he seemed like he really wanted to go back to being friends, so that’s what I did.”

Kira gritted her teeth, “Are you telling me that if Stiles had said, ‘Don’t date him, we’re stupid, let’s forget everything and just be together.’ back in fucking June all of this crap wouldn’t have happened?”

Lydia looked down in a confused frustration, but didn’t respond.

Kira huffed, “I literally hate both of you.”

“How do I fix this?”  She looked at her friend with those big green eyes and Kira crumbled.

“Damn it, come here.” She hugged her and added, “You just need to have an honest conversation with Stiles and with Matty.  Figure out what you want, what would make you happiest.  Stop using that big brain of yours for half a second and try using your equally large heart.”

Lydia nodded, knowing her friend was right.

 

 

She found him sitting at their terrace, strumming an acoustic.  He looked up as she came in and smiled, “Hey babe.  You left early.”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to Stiles, but he already left for New York.”

He sat the guitar down and came back in, glancing at the clock on his nightstand, “Damn, he left early.  Heard you two got in a drag out last night.”

She watched as he sat down on the bed, leaning back on the head board.  She sat down on it as well, “Yeah, we did.  I kind of overreacted and he got pissed at me.”

He nodded, “This whole take charge rock and roll Stiles doesn’t sit well with you does it?”

She was confused by his question, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, “I mean, the not doing what you tell him to do and the partying and girls, it pisses you off.”

She thought about it for a second before answering truthfully, “Yeah it does.  I mean, he’s always been specifically mine, which sounds extremely selfish now that I say it out loud.  Not always romantically, but he’s always been looking out for me and making sure I was fine and comfortable and now he yells at me and writes songs that throw me under the bus and it all just doesn’t fit with who we were in high school.”

He held her hand and smiled softly, “Lydia, people change after high school.”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah well, new Stiles and Lydia kind of suck.”

He chuckled lightly, “So you guys have really known each other since the third grade, huh?  The only person I talk about with such affection and exasperation in the same breath, I’ve known my whole life.”

Lydia smiled, “He’d say no, we didn’t know each other.  He knew me but I never noticed him.  But he’d be wrong because he’s stupid and only remembers what he wants to.”

“Go on.”  He said, amused.

“Stiles kept being chosen to be the line leader over me because he was sweet to the teacher and to his classmates whereas I tried to correct the grammar of third graders on a regular basis.”  She smiled, remembering, “I knew exactly who he was.  And I hated him.  I started wishing every morning that Stiles wouldn’t be in class so that I’d get the job.  And then one day he wasn’t.  And he didn’t come the next day or the next.  Or the next two weeks after that.”

“What happened?”

She took a sharp breath, “His mom died.  But I didn’t know that.  I thought I had wished him into oblivion.  When he came back I was so relieved I started crying.  And that was the moment I decided to pretend Stiles Stilinski didn’t exist.  Because no one made Lydia Martin cry and got away with it.”

He wiped a tear that had escaped from her cheek, “It’s okay to cry.”

She rested her hand over the one on her cheek, “I know that now.”

“Why are you still here?”

She looked up at him and questioned, “What?”

“You still love him.  What are you doing with me?  Other than hiding from him.”

She looked down and shut her eyes tightly as the tears started rolling down her cheeks, “I like you, Matty.  So much.  You’re so sweet and funny and... It's just that Stiles is, he's, I keep... he's always been right in front of me and I just--”

“Hey, shhh.  Don’t cry.”  He pulled her into an embrace, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, it’s really shitty.”

He laughed softly, “The title of my next album.”

She pulled back and narrowed her eyes, “I will kill you if you write a hate album about me.”

He grinned, “Oh no, darling.  Just a song or two.”  He got up and pulled her with him, “I don’t know what you’re going to do, or if I’ll see you again, but just know that it’s been good, yeah.”

She nodded and hugged him again, “Thank you, Matty.”

He kissed the top of her head and then watched her leave his room.  He walked back over to his terrace and grabbed his guitar.  Sitting down he began to pick lightly at the strings, he thought about the pretty red-head he’d just said goodbye to for the happiness of a friend.  Maybe he really was growing up.

He chuckled and pulled out a blunt, “Nah.”


	12. One Song Left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this one. I can't believe it's almost over!!
> 
> Scars-James Bay is this chapter's song.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

 

The warm wind blew through his already messy hair, making him miss Roscoe.  But this Jeep would do.

“I think we should drive like this all the way back to Cali, man.”  Scott said with a hand hanging out of the window.

Stiles smiled and shook his head, “Maybe next tour.  Stiles wants to sleep the whole way home.”

Scott laughed, “You’re right.  Sleep sounds better.  It’s been two months since I’ve really done that.”

They fell into a comfortable rhythm for a while, enjoying the wind and the radio, blaring Blurryface and singing along loudly.

Passing into Virginia, Scott broke the silence, blurting out what’s been on his mind since last night, “You know you can’t give her up, right?”

Stiles didn’t look over but Scott knew he heard him by how his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, “She made her choice.”

Scott rolled his eyes, “You didn’t give her a choice, Stiles.”

“I don’t have to tell her how I feel.  After all this time, she knows.”

Scott crossed his arms, “Listen, I’m telling you this because I love you.  You’re the biggest fucking idiot on this planet.”

Stiles clenched his jaw, “You wanna elaborate or is it just in general.”

“Stiles, sometimes it doesn’t matter what people think they know.  They need to hear it.  Sometimes you have to put someone else’s feelings above your own comfort level.”

Stiles exhaled sharply, “You don’t think I’ve been putting her feelings first?  Everything I’ve done since that album release party has been to try not to hurt her any more than I already have!  Lydia is literally the only person I’ve ever loved.  I’ll love her until I die and then probably after.  I’m just… I’ve been trying to find solid ground with her.  A way for her to be in my life and not be mine, like it used to be.  I can’t do it.”

Scott shook his head, “I’m listening to everything you’re saying, but all I’m hearing is that you love her and you’re scared to tell her and be rejected again, so you’re playing it safe.”

“I’m playing it safe?” He glanced over to his friend who shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s what I said.”

.

.

.

He thought over what said for a few miles before answering him, “I need to play the song.”

Scott grinned, “You mean the one song on the album you made me promise not to bring up or try to get you to play at all this whole tour that I had to beg you to even put on the album because it’s the best one.  The one you know she hasn't heard because she's only listened to the ones you play live. That one?”

“That one.”

 .

 .

 .

 .

 .

Stiles quieted the crowd with his hands, “I’ve got one song left to sing.  Maybe you’ve noticed, maybe you haven’t, but there’s a song on our album I haven’t played on this tour.  Or at all, other than the studio.”

He paused as he heard the crowd start screaming the title.  Of course they noticed, “This tour has been the best experience of my life.  We’ve made memories that’ll last a lifetime, and on our way here tonight Scott and I decided we just need to leave it all out here on the stage. Or rather, I needed to leave everything I have here on this stage.”

The stadium was deafening and he continued, “I started this song two summers ago.  And I finished it last year. Sometimes the things you need to say the most, you keep them to yourselves.  Sometimes you run.  Take it from me, tell people what they mean to you when you have the chance for it to matter."

With that he began the song.

  
**You're setting off,**  
 **It's time to go, the engine's running**  
 **My mind is lost,**  
 **We always knew this day was coming**  
 **And now it's more frightening than it's ever gonna be**  
  
**We grow apart,**  
 **I watch you on the red horizon**  
 **Your lion's heart**  
 **Will protect you under stormy skies**  
 **And I will always be listening for your laughter and your tears**  
  
**And as soon as I can hold you once again**  
 **I won't let go of you, I swear**  
  
**We live through scars this time**  
 **But I've made up my mind**  
 **We can't leave us behind anymore**  
  
**Your hands are cold,**  
 **Your lips are turning blue, you're shaking**  
 **This fragile heart,**  
 **So heavy in my chest, it's breaking**  
 **And in the dark, you try to make a pay phone call to me**  
  
**But you're miles away,**  
 **You're breaking up, you're on your own**  
 **It's hard to take,**  
 **I need an hour just to say hello**  
 **And I can't make the truth of this work out for you or me**  
  
**And for all the pennies in your pocket**  
 **We barely get a second just to speak**  
  
**We live through scars this time**  
 **But I've made up my mind**  
 **We can't leave us behind anymore**  
 **We'll have to hurt for now**  
 **But next time there's no doubt**  
 **'Cause I can't go without you anymore**  
  
**Oh, no, no**  
 **Oh, oh.**  
  
**We live through scars this time**  
 **But I've made up my mind**  
 **No, we can't leave us behind anymore**  
  
**We'll have to hurt for now**  
 **But next time, there's no doubt**  
 **'Cause I can't go without you anymore**  
 **No, I can't go without you anymore**

 

Stiles stood there breathless, having poured everything he had left into that last line. The crowd erupted. But he wasn’t looking at the crowd.  He was looking up at the VIP box.  He was looking at Lydia.

When he said he had to leave it on the stage, he hadn’t meant for the audience.  He meant that he had to put it out there for her.  Whatever she did with it now was up to her.

 

 

 

Lydia wasn’t sure how you could make eye contact with someone so far away.  But she had.  And it felt like pure electricity running through her.  All of his songs had meant something to her.  The angry ones.  The sad ones.  All of them.  She hadn’t heard that one.

She thought back to the day she got on the plane for New York.  Scott had ridden with her and her mom to the airport.  He hugged her tightly and told her that he was always a phone call away.  That they both were.  As quickly as he told her that, she pulled away, not wanting to feel worse than she already did.  Scott had sighed and nodded, understanding that whatever else he had to say wouldn’t help the situation.  He squeezed her hands once and added, “You can leave him here, but you can never leave him behind.”

She hadn’t understood what he meant at the time.  She did now.

She left him, but he was always with her.  Every time she saw powder blue or a baseball bat.  Someone wearing plaid walking down the street would cause her heart to skip a beat, thinking maybe, just maybe, he had come for her.  A glass of whiskey would have her imagining his golden brown eyes.  He was a part of her as much as she was a part of him.  No amount of fighting or pushing each other away could change that.

They were tethered.  And even if she wanted to, she’d never be rid of him.  The thing was, she didn’t want that.  She never wanted that.  Even as she screamed at him that she didn’t want him, she knew she was a liar.  She had lied to him and to herself.  The idea that someone could love her with the intensity that Stiles loved her terrified her.

It didn’t terrify her anymore.

 

 

 

Stiles tossed his guitar to a stage hand and ran towards the VIP box, not sure what he was running towards.  He’d seen her watching him.  He felt something change.  He felt her get it.  He knew he did.  He just hoped he wasn’t being too hopeful.

Taking the stairs two at a time he’d made it quickly and scanned the room for her.  He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to find Isaac.

“Where’s Lydia?”

Isaac squeezed his shoulder, “She felt.”

“She left?!  She was just here!” he said, looking frantically around the room.

“Yeah, man.  I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you.  She grabbed her bag and ran down the stairs and out the back door.”

Stiles didn’t bother saying his goodbyes.  He ran down the flight of stairs towards the back doors.  Barreling through them he found himself on a busy sidewalk in the middle of New York City. He looked for her, spinning back and forth with both hands on his hand.  He didn’t see her anywhere on the crowded sidewalks.

He dropped his hands and shut his eyes.  She was gone.  Again.

 

 

 

 

A couple of hours into the bus ride home, Stiles' phone buzzed.

 

_Just a quick update on the lives of our favorite not couple Stiles Stilinski from Pack Mentality and the lovely Lydia Martin. Or "Stydia" as social media has dubbed them._

_As you know, the last time the two were seen together, they were captured arguing backstage after Pack Mentality's show in Nashville._

_If you've forgotten already, here a little bit of footage a lucky bystander managed to capture before security realized they weren't supposed to be there.  There was no sound to the video, so we can only assume it was about the song he sang with her boyfriend, lead singer, Matty Healy, of The 1975._

_ _

_ _

_(Stiles, honey, that's not a face you make to an angry woman.)_

_Tonight, they were finally spotted again.  Not together, but almost.  Which in this case, may be better._

_Lydia during their set._

_ _

_Lydia during the last song._

_What are you nodding about?  WHAT DO YOU AGREE WITH, LYDIA?_

 

_Stiles sang the last song of their set and, according to witnesses, he ran up to the VIP section only moments after Lydia left the building._

_He quickly ran back down and out the back door, where this footage was taken._

_You’re welcome._

 

_Lydia exited the building first, with this expression._

_WHY ARE YOU UPSET?  WHY DID YOU LEAVE? WHY DOES YOUR HAIR LOOK SO GOOD AFTER BEING UP ALL NIGHT?!_

 

_Next, about 45 seconds later, Stiles exited through the same doors and seemed to scan the crowd for her before going back inside._

 

_(yes, we already made gifs and we **praise** zoom capabilities.) _

_They definitely didn't leave happy and they didn't leave together and she didn't leave with Matty._

_So, in conclusion, we have no idea what happened._

_We'll keep you posted._

 

Stiles threw his phone across the bus and let it smash against the wall.  He’d missed her by forty-five seconds.  Fantastic.

 

 

 

Later that night across the country, Lydia exited the terminal after her red eye landed.  She quickly hailed a cab and rode into the town she vowed she’d never go back to.  She knew he wouldn’t be there, but she rode to Stiles’ house anyway.  It had always felt more like home than her own house.  She told the taxi driver to wait twenty minutes.

She got out and walked towards the front door with absolutely no clue as to what she’d say when the Sheriff opened the door.  He probably hated her for everything that’s happened.  She knocked anyway.

 

“Lydia?”  He questioned when he opened the door, eyes droopy from sleep.  It was late.

She looked down at her watch, “Oh God, I didn’t realize how late it was, I’m--”

Before she had another word out, she was engulfed in a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

Surprised by how much she needed that, she started to cry and hugged him back, “I’m sorry.”

He ushered her in and sat her down on the couch, squatting in front of her and handing her some tissue, “Hey, don’t cry.  You know I don’t know what to do when girls cry.  I can call Melissa...”

She laughed, “No, I’m just, I’m relieved you don’t hate me.”

His forehead creased, “I couldn’t hate you.  I’ve been frustrated with you and my idiot son for the last two years, but no hatred.”

She nodded, “I’ve been frustrated with the two of us as well.”

“You here to do something about it?  I don’t think he gets in until late tomorrow night.”

Lydia shook her head, “Yeah I know he’s not here.  I was just hoping I could leave him a message for when he got home.”

“Of course.”  He got up and looked around the room, noticing a legal pad.  He picked it up and a pen and handed it to her, “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”  She took at and sat it in her lap, just looking down at it. 

After a few moments of that, the Sheriff rubbed his hands together, “Okay, well, I’m going to head back to sleep.  Take as long as you need, hon.”

She nodded, “Thank you.”

 

After he went to his room she got up and paced, wondering how to even begin.  After a couple of frustrating minutes she went outside and paid the taxi driver to stay a little longer.  She looked around and noticed the powder blue death trap that was what’s left of Roscoe. Maybe that would give her inspiration.

She walked over to it and shook her head, disappointed that he didn’t lock his doors.

She climbed into it and was immediately overpowered by his scent.  Woodsy and a little sweet.  It smelled like home.  She traced her fingers over the steering wheel where she'd seen Stiles tap along to music or his own thoughts almost every day of the last two years of high school.  She flipped the visor down, hoping it'd still be there.  She smiled when it was.  A picture of the two of them sitting on the beach at the beginning of the summer, back before she'd let her self get lost in him.  If she was honest with herself though, she already had by then.  If she was extremely honest, that had probably happened when she kissed him in a smelly locker room to stop his panic attack long before she admitted her feelings to him.  

Sitting there was all she needed to trigger the flood of words on her mind.

And so she wrote.


	13. So... Anything There?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/user/kaykel108/playlist/0nzb0nGaQuuA18V7oC8RJm
> 
> The link above is a Spotify playlist of the songs I used during this story and then a whole bunch more that make me think of Stydia. Feel free to listen and follow, because I'm always listening to music and adding songs that hit me in the feels.
> 
> This story has meant so much to me. I've loved all of the feedback and kudos, you don't even know! I hate hate hate that it's over, but mama gotta finish college this semester. I'm sure there will be more on these two from me and I hope you've all enjoyed it as much I have!
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you!

 

 

 

 

**_Stiles,_ **

**_These last few months have easily been the highlight of my life.  We’ve travelled the country, learning about each other and growing as individuals and together.  I’ve watched you captivate thousands of people with your honest lyrics and genuine soul.  You’ve captivated me, that’s for sure.  I don’t know how we managed to end up where we began so many years ago, friends. Or something close to friends at least._ **

**_But the thing about being friends is that it’s kind of torture when all you want is to be more than that, you know?  (Yes, I’ve watched your video more than once.)_ **

**_I think about this dorky kid who told me I’d win a Nobel Prize for a mathematical formula and it feels like someone is stepping on my chest.  Because maybe we were just friends once.  But we can’t be anymore. Not after everything that’s happened.  I understand why you wanted to forget we ever happened.  I get it._ **

**_The thing is, I can’t.  I can’t forget the way you look at me and see more than anyone else ever has.  I can’t forget the way your hands feel as they roam my body.  I can’t forget the day you looked at me and told me that you and Malia had been broken up for weeks and I pretty much attacked your face with mine.  I can’t forget any of those things because I don’t want to forget them.  They’re ingrained in me, much like you are._ **

**_You see Stiles, I loved you the day I told you I didn’t want you. I loved you the day after you left while I cried into a ~~pint~~ gallon of ice cream.  I loved you as I read your apology letters but didn’t reply.  I loved you when I saw you wearing the shirt I bought you at your album release party.  I loved you for every single nice thing you said about Matty when you didn’t have to.  I loved you for every word on your album because even when they hurt, they never lied.  I love you as I’m sitting in your Jeep in Beacon Hills writing this when I should have told you at your show. I loved you through all of our mistakes._ **

 

**_I love you.  I love you.  I love you.  I could write it a million times, but I’d much rather say it to your face._ **

**_Because bottom line, Stiles, is that I want you with me.  Now.  Six months from now.  Fifty years from now.  I don’t know if that’s what you want too.  I think it is.  I hope it is.  I guess I’ll find out soon enough._ **

**_Unconditionally yours,_ **

**_Lydia._ **

**_p.s. If any of that sounds like anything you’d be interested in, you know where to find me._ **

****

****

****

****

****

His hands shook as he sat on his bed, exhausted from the cross country drive he’d just taken.  He had been readying himself of the best sleep of his life back in his own bed.  That was before he got home to find a folded piece of paper on his pillow.  He read it and re-read it a few times, noticing that the last few sentences were word for word what he had written her two years ago.

Why couldn’t anything be remotely simple for them?  Why couldn’t she have just waited until after the show and tell him that in person?  Why did she tell him she didn’t want him in the first place?  Why were there so many questions when it came to them?

He ran his hands through his hair and laid back on his bed, not hearing his dad come in.

“She left that for you last night.”

He shot back up, surprised, “God Dad, what are you doing up?”

The Sheriff ignored him and sat down in his computer chair, “So… anything there?”

Stiles sighed, remembering his dad asking the same question after the night she’d come to him for help with Jackson.  He remembered telling him that she was in love with someone else, like they even knew what love was back then.  Even when she hadn’t really known him, she trusted him. He looked back down at the letter and realized that’s what’s been missing.  He stopped trusting her and he stopped trusting his own feelings for her.

Maybe there were unanswered questions, but it was beyond time to trust that they’d work themselves out.  He needed believe the words he was reading.

He took a deep breath and stood up, “I guess we’ll see.”

.

.

.

It was late.  Almost two when he had gotten home.  So it was pushing on three when he pulled into her driveway.  He’d come full circle.  This was where she ended everything and here he was, two years later, about to climb the lattice work up to her bedroom.  If she was serious about him knowing where she’d be, she’d hopefully left her window unlocked.

He looked up to her window with his hands on his hips, “If she makes me climb up the fucking side of her house and we don’t get married…” he muttered to himself.

He grabbed hold of the lattice and made his way up slowly, only slipping twice and nudged on her window, feeling it lift easily.

“Oh thank god.” He whispered as he opened it the rest of the way.  As gracefully as he could, he pulled himself in and then turned toward her bed, finding her asleep. He couldn’t help but notice the parallel he drew in his mind to the last time he saw her peacefully sleeping.  He had snuck out.  Now, he was sneaking in.

He pulled off his shoes quietly, hoping not to wake her and then gently laid down next to her, pulling the covers over him as well.  He prayed she wouldn’t freak out and use her Banshee powers on him for intruding like this.  Honestly, he had planned on waking her and talking, but she looked so beautiful sleeping, he couldn’t bring himself to do that.

Almost as soon as he got comfortable she grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him forward, burying her face in his chest.

“Took you long enough.”  She mumbled sleepily.

Smiling, he wrapped both arms around her, “It was a long drive.  I didn’t hop on a plane like somebody.”

He could feel a smile playing on her lips and he continued, “Lydia?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

She pulled away from his chest slightly and looked up at him, “I’m sorry for running away.”

“I’m sorry for letting you.” He whispered.

They laid like that for a few seconds, allowing those apologizes to sink in.  They’d spent years in a tug-of-war to see who could be more stubborn and it had all been erased with ten words.

“Matty and I broke up, in case you weren’t sure.”

Stiles smiled, “I kind of put two and two together on that one, what with you flying across the country and leaving that letter for me.”

She shrugged, “Just making sure you knew, you know, in case you wanted to kiss me or whatever.”

He tilted his head in amusement, “That’s so considerate of you.”

“You know me, considerate is my middle name.”

Stiles laughed, “We’ll get to the kissing.  I’m not done apologizing.”

She huffed and sat up, “Fine.  Go on.”

They moved to sit Indian style across from each other.  Stiles started, “I’m sorry I wrote songs about you that were mean and got famous off of them.”

“I’m sorry I did things that inspired nasty songs.”

Stiles nodded, “I’m sorry I left you after we slept together in New York last year.  I was scared.”

“Of what?”

He looked down at his lap, “That you’d wake up, realize how stupid that had been, and tell me you hadn’t changed your mind.”

Lydia reached out and interlaced her fingers with his, “I would’ve told you I was sorry and that the only reason I broke up with you was because I was scared that I loved you too much.”

He shut his eyes, “I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, you are.  And I’m not sorry for the interview.”

He smiled, “I deserved it.  I’m sorry for the Hannah Montana statement.”

“I’m glad you’re sorry for that one.” She shook her head in amusement and continued, “I’m sorry I never responded to your apologies.  My ego took and hit and my pride wouldn't let it go.  It could’ve saved us a lot of time.”

Stiles continued, feeling a multitude of weights lift off his shoulder with every turn they took, “I’m sorry I told you I wanted to forget we happened and then I’m sorry for acting like I wanted to forget we happened.  And I’m really really sorry I didn’t kiss you in the rain that day in Portland.”

A smile danced across her features for a moment before she grew serious, “I’m sorry I had a boyfriend for the last three months and that you had to watch that.”

“I’m sorry I liked him.” He shrugged with a smile on his face.

She leaned her head back and laughed before continuing, “I’m sorry I yelled at you the night you played that song with him.  You were right to be upset with me.”

He shook his head, “It doesn’t matter how upset I ever am with you, I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you like that and I shouldn’t have broken my coffee table in my dressing room and I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, tried to superglue it back together only to get angry again and re-break it.”

“You broke a coffee table? … That’s kind of hot.”

Stiles shrugged, “I mean, I am a rock star so… I have a reputation to uphold.”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring that, “I’m also sorry for leaving last night after your show.  I had just been a little overwhelmed with the song and all the people and then I walked outside and realized how that must’ve looked to you.  And then I freaked out some more and went home and grabbed a bag and got on a plane because I figured that if you could play a song like that for me in front of thousands of people I could go back to a town I never wanted to see again to tell you how I feel.”

Stiles reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “I forgive you.  For all of it.”

“Good, because I forgive you too.”

After a couple of seconds of silence, Lydia added, “Can we be done apologizing now because I’d like to get to the sex?”

Stiles tilted his head, “Oh, it’s sex now?  Last time I checked it was kissing.  What’s next?  Me leaving a toothbrush at your place?  Clearing out a drawer for you in my dresser?”

“Um… yes?”

Stiles grinned, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

With that he leaned forward and she met him half way in a kiss they’d both felt like they’d been waiting forever for.

 .

 .

 .

 .

 .

Three weeks later:

 

“You have to jiggle it.  Harder.”

Stiles cracked a smile and she slapped him on the shoulder, “That was not a sexual innuendo.”

“This door is not going to open.”  He said, ignoring her reprimands.

She huffed and took the key from him, “Watch.”

He stepped back and watched as she rammed the key into the door and opened it with ease.

“Oh.”

With a satisfied smirk, she handed him the key back, “You’ll get used to the lock.”

She turned and walked down the hall, “Hey, where do you think you’re going?!”

Lydia turned back around, still walking backwards, “I did my part, I didn’t sign up to help you move in too.”

He crossed his arms, “So you’re just going to sit comfortably in your apartment while I slave away putting mine together by myself.”

She shrugged, “You have Scott.”

“Who isn’t here yet.” He returned, exasperated.

“Not my problem, Stiles.”

He tapped his fingers along his hip bones, not knowing that it drove her wild, “What if you have a say in where things go?”

She paused in her retreat, “I’m listening.”

He grinned, knowing that he had her, “You can decide where the furniture goes and which drawer you want.”

“Which drawer I want?”

“Well yeah.  I distinctly remember saying first came kissing. Check.  Sex.  Check.  Toothbrush at your place.  Check.  So now…”

She grinned and ran back down the hall, letting him catch her as she jumped into his arms.  Wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, she looked down, “I love you.”

Stiles smiled and walked into his bare apartment, sitting her on the ledge of their counter. His hands roamed her thighs while he looked her in the eyes, “Yeah?”

“Yes.”  She answered as she ran her hands through his shorter hair.  He’d cut it last week and she wasn’t sure if she loved it because of how “Stiles” he looked now or if she missed the rocker look.  As his nose and lips trailed down her neck she decided she really didn’t care either way.

Peppering kisses along her collar bone and back up her neck, he replied, “Good.  Because I really, like _really_ love you.”

They were both still in the stage where every time they said it, it sounded new.  Exciting.  Stiles wasn’t sure they’d ever get passed that stage.  He knew for a fact he never wanted to.

“I’m glad you’re here.  Even if you did move to New York just to spite me.” She whispered as she pulled his mouth to hers.  Just as her hands reached under his shirt, pulling it up, they both heard a bag drop.

Stiles pulled away from her and turned around to see Scott standing next to his duffle bag with his eyes closed, “Nope.  No.  This isn’t going to work for me.”

They laughed and Lydia hopped off the counter, crossing the room to give him a hug, “Oh shut up, it’ll be fun.”

 

And it was.

 

 

 

Epilogue... kind of:

 

 

_Buzzfeed_

_8 Reasons This Year Was The Year Of The Stydia Shipper_

 

_Stydia, you remember them?  Last summer they made waves on The 1975's North American tour.  The former couple toured together while Stiles' band opened for Lydia's boyfriend's band.  It was as awkward as it sounds, I assure you._

_You should also remember the falling out they had on the last leg of the journey, from the fighting backstage in Nashville to singing unanswered love songs in New York._

_You should DEFINITELY remember the radio silence that followed.  Where did they go?  What happened?_

_We didn't have to wait very long.  Three weeks later they were spotted on the streets of New York attempting to avoid the cameras. (You can't hide from us.)_

_Well, the rest is history and as we head into August's heat, I thought I'd take a look back on Stydia's year of happiness while proving that they, in fact, had the best year of all the ships._

_Without further ado,_

_1)  Let us begin with Lydia Martin, who took New York by storm.  Not only has she been excelling in school, she's also been one of the most photographed models of the year.  Here she is on Fashion Police discussing red carpet looks as well as dishing on her own hatred for Stiles' insistence on wearing plaid. (She loves it, you don't fool me.)_

__

_2) Moving on to Stiles.  Pack Mentality's album went platinum.  They're currently in the studio working on number two. THANK GOD._

_ _

_3) Pack Mentality's music video for Love You Crazy was Vevo's number one played video of the year.  For obvious reasons.  Look at them.  They're so stupid.  I love them._

_ _

_4)  In November, Stydia graced the world with their first joint interview.  It was everything._

__

_ _

_5)  We then got this instagram of the two of them at an awards show.  Preciousness._

_ _

_6)  And then she told the world of Stiles' athletic abilities.  We only knew about Lacrosse.  Thank you, Ms. Martin._

_ _

_7)  And then in March they made their own video to Scars and we all died.  Remember that?  Remember dying? REMEMBER?!_

_The beginning was cute.  They were all happy and in black and white._

_ _

_And things got hard.  They broke up.  I cried.  I bet you did too._

    

 

_But you stopped crying by the end. JUST LIKE THEIR RELATIONSHIP._

_ _

_(I see that plaid, Lydia.  Told you you weren't fooling me.)_

_8)  And finally, Stiles posted this picture of Lydia with their new dog.  They share a dog's life._

_ _

 

_I assume the next step is marriage. Sure, they're only 21.  But it's time.  It's the only logical next step._

_Thank you shippers, for shipping with me._

_Until next time,_

_xoxo Gossip Girl._

 

 

_Just kidding, it's Cat Sadler.  Buzzfeed let me make this._


End file.
